From Russia With Love
by TeaseMe2
Summary: Controversy surrounds Bella's decision to play in the Olympic Games in Russia, as a star player for the US Women's Hockey team and an out and proud lesbian. Along her quest for Gold she will meet Rosalie, a Slavic beauty who wants to do her country proud but never expected to meet anyone in Sochi, much less a US player.
1. Chapter 1

**From Russia With Love**

I'm struggling with the next chapter of The Other Side Of Things. I wrote a first draft, then another and another etc but it's still not right...So, here I am again, procrastinating and writing something else. I am a bit of an Olympics junkie, watched a lot of the Games those past weeks and this is what came out of it.

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say. Enjoy and thanks for reading.

**I own nothing but my ideas and words. Everything else belongs to its rightful owner.**

**[chapter 1 – Davai Sochi ]**

The controversy started on a silly gossip website, at first it was only a few disappointed posts here and there, claiming she was unfit to represent her community, a bunch of angry people spewing hate at her via anonymous comments left on bitter blog posts. Then, it got national coverage amidst alarming reports of beatings inflicted of several members of the Russian LGBT community and people went from resentment to outrage. Politicians from both parties were invited to debate the question on every major news show, wondering if the country should not boycott the Olympics altogether.

When she understood how far it went, Bella decided to speak up publicly- no matter how much she hated it, she wouldn't allow people to speculate and voice their opinions on her behalf. Her PR staff set up meetings with various medias, both newspapers and TV networks to get her feelings on the issue out there, national coverage, with few interventions on her part.

She chose to be truthful, explained her position, how she felt it was unfair to put such a political weight on athletes whose sole focus the past years had been the games. Most of them had dreamed about the day they could compete in front of the whole world since their childhood. She conceded there was undeniable political ties to the Olympics since their creation, but the International Olympics Committee should have chosen another country to host the event, more agreeable to the IOC's principles in the first place then. Not ask athletes to give up their dream, the only goal they had in the past years, barely a few weeks before the games started.

"Maybe then we would not be having this conversation" she said firmly, keeping her voice as steady as her convictions, unwavering in front of the seasoned journalist interviewing her live on TV.

She had been used to the media frenzy for a few years now, ever since she'd been branded America's best female hockey player. It was nothing unusual for her to speak to the press by now, yet they had never been as vicious as they were today. Fuck they were nicer with her when she came out, contrary to her agent's belief...Sure, things had been tense for a while, she received her quota of threats in the mail and insulting letters for a while, but most people had been supportive and really nice to her. She received many letters from struggling teens thanking her or explaining how life was tough for them with their family sometimes, their classmates and how it helped them to see someone famous- who was recognized as a star player by every sports anchor- come out.

She was glad to make such a positive impact on young lives and made a point to answer each and every one of those letters personally. Yes, her agent had told her repeatedly that he could assign someone to do it for her but she liked the idea of helping those teens and hey, if she could give them five minutes of her time to make their day a little bit better, it was actually the least she could do. Besides, she understood very well their struggles, their doubts, the fear some of them lived with on a daily basis. She had been toying with an idea recently, something that came up on her mind every single day and which could help those kids have a better life; she wanted to build a haven where they could get safety, information, support and understanding but wasn't sure how to do it alone so she asked her PR team to set up a meeting with the first USA LGBT organization in the country and lawyers among others. Unfortunately, her training took up most of her time these days and it would be delayed until she came back from Sochi, hopefully with a gold medal to show for it.

"Yes, but surely you understand why people wonder about it? And why the LGBT community would feel betrayed, right?"

"Disappointed? Sure. But betrayed. Frankly, no. I mean, think about it this way...Would you ask the same defection of a straight athlete? No. And if you were lucky enough to get a spot on your national team for a worldwide event which happens once every four years, would you give it up?"

"I can't say if I would-" started the woman before Bella cut her short, anticipating her answer, she had done it enough to know what came next: hypocrisy. Those people didn't have a clue what it was like, yet they sat and talked on and on about what athletes should do, how they should act, what they should think. She thought it was such utter bullshit, and as usual, they all asked the same fucking questions over and over again.

"Look, I love my sport, I've been passionate about it ever since I was a little kid watching it on TV with my dad and brothers, trying to be one of the boys and playing the game with them on Sundays. I breathe hockey, I live for it...I wake up with it in the morning, I'm still thinking about it all day long with my team, hell I bleed for it regularly on the ice-"

"Of course, we all love to watch you score, Bella, nobody is denying your talent out there. But people don't understand how could you go to Russia when the government is persecuting gays. What do you want to answer to them? I understand your coming out was rather well received, I'm told you get dozens of letters every day from every part of the country..."

"They are the reason I am here with you tonight, Leslie, if it had been just a matter of throwing me under the bus I wouldn't have minded much" she replied calmly, smiling at the journalist.

"I care. A lot. I've been surprised with the amount of mail I got from people. Now don't get me wrong, it hasn't been all rainbows and unicorns, some people hate me...And it's fine, even if I wanted to, I couldn't please everyone so you know, whatever. But those kids, teens and families who reached out to me, thanking me, asking me for advice or just to tell me their struggles? Those are the ones I don't want to disappoint, which is why I wanted to speak up. I don't want them to feel betrayed or offended- believe me, that's the last thing I want. Still, I don't think my sexuality has anything to do with my participation in the Olympics. Besides tabloid fodder, of course and maybe giving people something to talk about on their coffee breaks-which is fine by me" she winked to the woman who watched her as she spoke.

"I won't give up on my dream just because I'm a lesbian. I want equality for me and my fellow gays and you can count on me to continue to be vocal about Russia's anti-gays laws, the oppression they suffer from- both physically, vocally and mentally. Just as I did when they passed the bill on gay propaganda." She took a deep breath and settled her growing nerves, waiting for the journalist to strike back with a witty comment.

"Yes, you have tweeted several times on the issue. Don't you think that is precisely why people focus their anger on you-"

"Yeah, probably, 'cause I'm sure as hell not the only gay on the team" Bella winked again, at the camera this time, smiled and reached for the bottled water at her side. She unscrewed the cap and took a gulp of sparkling water before the interview continued.

It went on for a few more minutes, she talked about her sexuality at lengths and how her coming-out impacted her sport, the reactions she got from her teammates- they put a few pictures of their tweets on display, as well as the male hockey players and athletes from other sports or tweets from celebrities. She thanked people for their support once again, gave her predictions regarding the medal she hoped Team USA would bring back home- "Gold of course, Leslie. I want to win that medal, whether I have to battle against the Canadians for it or the Swedes, I'm not leaving Russia without it"- before they let her go.

She was barely out of the studio, walking to her car as she checked her emails on the phone when her older brother called. As much as she wanted to swipe ignore the call, she knew it was pointless with Edward, he would just keep trying until she picked it up. Today was an important day, with her live interview and she had known all along that he would most definitely reach out during the day. _No point in delaying the inevitable,_ she thought as she answered.

"How did it go?"

She chuckled and teased him. Even though he never missed her TV appearances, he always had to ask first.

"Fine. Did you see it?"

"You have to ask, little sister?" Both siblings loved to pester each other and her brother never missed an occasion to nudge her.

"So? What did you think?"

"It was good, Bells. People loved it, I've been monitoring twitter and so far you're trending-"

"Trending Eddie, really?" She couldn't help but laugh at her geek of a brother.

"Shut up, I'm cool. My kids told me so."

"Oh Eddie, wait til they grow up and you become the biggest embarrassment of their lives. Listen I have to rush, I'm late for practice. We're still on for dinner tonight?"

"Yes, my minions await your arrival anxiously..."

"OK, I'll be there, you geek. See you tonight, E"

"Be careful on the ice, Bells, I'm serious, the games are in two weeks so don't strain yourself."

"Always am, you know that. I won't. Bye." She loved her brother but he worried too much. Always had, as their mother who couldn't help but still cringe every time a player shoved her daughter against the glass and she injured herself. She stopped counting the time she went home with bruises a long time ago. It came with the territory in her sport and she bruised easily.

As soon as she hung up, she went to practice with her team, not stopping until they were wiped out. Training was rough on her team, with barely a few weeks until their first Olympics game, their coach pushed them harder as the games approached. He yelled at them to be faster, more clever in their plays and to communicate efficiently with each other. Her brother's words came back to her as she trained and yes, maybe she went with a softer touch for once when she barreled into the other players to steal the puck and score a goal, but there was no freaking way she was missing on the games for a fucking injury a few weeks before the opening ceremony.

On that day, she would stand besides her teammates and parade behind the US flag in front of the whole world. It would be her first Olympics but she was ready for that, had been preparing for them a long time and she wasn't going to settle for anything but the gold. Of course, the team wanted to make their country proud, but more than that, they wanted to achieve the goal every player strives to attain in their career. Each team would be in Sochi to get the holy grail for themselves, every member in her team knew that. Yet they firmly believed in their chances as their team was better this year than the last five years, they had the best player in the IHF championship and their star center player was on the verge of making hockey history. Bella had started to play exhibition matches for a NHL team and sports anchors were speculating on her post Olympics draft to the top teams, making her the second woman player to be drafted by an official NHL team ever and the first woman in her position-the only other one had been Canadian legendary goaltender Manon Rhéaume in the 1990's- if everything went according to plans.

Hence why there was such an inspiration to victory in Team USA's ranks and Bella knew deep down that the media circus would never abate before that. Sports anchor all over the country would continue to speculate on her sexuality in the Russian games, whether the NHL should draft a woman player and use her in official games and on the whole, her performances with her team would be under high scrutiny.

She didn't particularly mind the attention, sure it was annoying as fuck, but she was used to it so really there was nothing new under the sun.

Leaving the ice for the day, the coach had them gather in the rec room where they watched past games of every team they could be up against in Sochi. He drilled them on tactics for the rest of the afternoon before they were free to go home.

She was happy to go see her family that night. They would not come to Russia as the officials had advised them against it, which sucked for her, Bella loved having her relatives watching her games and supporting her but her mom had promised a long distance call before and after her games and it would have to do. They were going to host Olympics nights in her parents house with the whole family gathered around the flat screen to support her.

Her brother greeted her at the door with Seth, her youngest nephew, toddling behind him to hug his aunt before bedtime. The dark-haired little boy threw himself at Bella who bent over to lift him.

"Hi, little man, why are you still up?"

"I waited you, aunt Bee"

"Oh you did? Thank you, sweetie" she grinned at his toothless smile when he nodded at her. Yawning, he asked in a soft voice, "when are you back with my medal, aunt Bee?" She laughed at the cute kid, ruffling his brown hair and kissing his forehead, "soon, little man, soon".

"Good", Seth replied, closing his eyes as he sleepily laid his head against her shoulder.

Her brother took Seth from her arms, telling her to join his wife in the kitchen while he settled the toddler in his bed. Tanya was humming happily as she cooked for them, looking as beautiful as ever with her venetian blond hair cascading around her back. If there was one thing she and her brother could always count on to agree, it was women. Her brother's wife was the picture of the homemaking beauties of the 1950s with a wild streak to boot. One day she'd be lucky to find someone that beautiful-inside and out, with a fierce heart and witty mind like Edward had, someone she'd want to share her life with. Someday...maybe.

"Hi Bella"

"Hey, where are your other kids? Sold them to the highest bidder?" she asked with a smirk to her statuesque sister-in-law.

She laughed and waved her wooden spoon at Bella, "I wish. They're with your parents, they should be here in thirty minutes or so."

"Oh, OK, need any help?"

"No, I'm almost finished, thanks Bella" she answered as she stirred the sauce pot.

"Alright, I can set the table, then?"

"Yeah, sure, your brother was supposed to do it but Seth wanted to watch the Special Olympics feature the local TV did on you."

"Yeah, they told me it was airing today but I was at practice. Was it any good?"

"You'll have to ask Edward for specifics, but they liked it" Tanya turned back to her and smiled, "I could hear Seth cheering for you all the way from here. He's so excited, sweetie, he talked all about it in school yesterday. He's so proud of you. They all are, you know that, right? No matter what medal you bring back."

Bella smiled gratefully at her and sighed, "yeah I know, still, I don't want to disappoint them."

"And you won't, B" her brother added when he entered the kitchen, "you're gonna do your best, right?" he asked as he hugged her.

"Of course I am."

"Then no matter what happens, we'll be proud of you."

"Thanks, but mark my words brother, I'm coming back with the gold. Can't disappoint my nephew right?" She smiled at her older sibling, bumping her fist with his as he smirked, "that's my sister!"

"Alright you two, set the table before your parents get here, please."

"Yes, ma'am" Edward mock saluted his wife, earning a laugh from both women.

Later that night, after the family had eaten diner, Alice, her 8 year old niece and Jasper, Bella's 12 year old nephew took her aside their family to give her their good fortune token for Sochi.

"Here, so you don't forget about us, when you're in Russia, Aunt B" told her Jasper. Both were so cute, almost solemnly performing the ritual as they each put a star in her hand to add to the lucky charms necklace. Their father had bought it for Bella last Christmas, to make up for a game he would not be able to attend, so it seemed only fitting for the kids' gift to complete her brother's.

"Thanks guys, I have a feeling these babies are gonna get me all the luck I need to win the Games" she winked at the kids and hugged them tight before they went back to the table.

Her parents gave Bella another star,"for all of us, so you know we're with you and we love you, sweetheart." Another teary round of hugs later, she was out the door. She felt her heart clench at the thought that the next time she'd see her family, the games would be over.

The coach wanted them to travel a week before the opening ceremony, to have time to train on the local ice rink and to cut his team off from the media circus. God knew she was grateful for that these days. Last thing she needed right now was to blew off her concentration for a bunch of gossip crazed people hiding behind their keyboards to criticize her and her lifestyle.

The days before they flew to Russia were spent training, packing, reassuring her crazy mom that she had everything she needed,- "yes, mom, I have enough underwear for two weeks"- rehashing game strategy with her father, and in essence getting her head straight in the game while paparazzi were waiting outside her apartment building to shout questions at her and watch her squirm. Fun times indeed. Her intervention had calmed things a bit but those vultures wanted to see her squirm.

As she rode in the taxi to the airport her head kept running over every possible team they'd have to beat, every stat or player move she had memorized to pass the time. She greeted her teammates when she arrived in the airport and together they boarded the plane, a joyful circus of their own. Her fellow players were excited, chatting with each other or listening to some music on their phones. Bella settled in her window seat, sighed and laid her head back. She closed her eyes, hoping to get some rest on the flight and was almost there...Unfortunately for her, Angela, their goaltender, had another idea in mind and yelled "Davai Sochi, ladies", to which the whole team started chanting "USA, USA, USA". They were progressively joined by fellow Team USA athletes from the ski team, and her dreams of sleep evaporated just as quickly. Hopefully with their hard work, cunning moves and a bit of good luck, their return flight would be just as enthusiastic. She fell asleep with nothing on her brain but dreams of victory and gold, so close she could almost taste it.


	2. Chapter 2

**From Russia With Love**

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say. Enjoy & thanks for reading.

Special thanks to those who put my story on alert/favorite and to my first reviewers : Guests, CatchingStar & koolawantxox4u

**I own nothing but my ideas and words. Everything else belongs to its rightful owner.**

**[chapter 2 – Lost in Translation ]**

Their team was on the way to their hotel after a long flight from home. Bella had finally been able to get some rest after the über enthusiastic members of the US team had stopped cheering. Most of the athletes had boarded the same flight for convenience, with more agents for their security than she had ever seen. Tensions were still running high between the USA and Russia...Sure, the Cold War was over but the relationship between both countries was still frosty at the very least and mistrust arose amidst struggles in neighboring Ukraine. Neither its parliament nor its people had appreciated their president's refusal to sign an association agreement with Europe in favor of Putin's Russia and its gas produced billions- scoring a record financial aid package which only infuriated the Ukrainians citizens. President Yanukovych might have hoped the money would soothe his people but far from that, those who aspired to a pro-European policy in opposition to the still very traditionalist Russia, or those who had simply enough of the corruption in their country and wanted things to change felt slapped in the face. Protests continued and escalated in a loud, shady and complicated background to what was supposed to be a celebration of sport, fair play and ideals. Hence the heavy security, the government had decided to take precautions, strengthening the security team who worked discreetly to ensure the athletes safety. Bella was glad they were here, there was supposed to be a truce between countries during the Olympic Games, but being on Russian soil felt weird to her. Call it American stereotype, too much history or hell, even stupidity on her part but it made her jittery.

Besides, the Olympic Truce was an ancient Greek tradition, revived by the IOC true, but still, there were no guarantee either parties wouldn't use the occasion to make a stand. She definitely did not mind the watchdogs. Some of her fellow US athletes had voiced their discomfort with the agents but she wasn't one to spit on extra security measures. Some of those guys were actually nice, nothing like the James Bond-y agents she had been expecting. They were mindful of her space, polite and could probably shoot their guns from a crazy distance...What's not to like? And that's coming from a lesbian so bear in mind she had absolutely no intention whatsoever to get any of those guys between her sheets. Maybe she'd make a wingman out of hers, just to have some fun...The players who had been in the last Winter Olympics in Vancouver had told her how crazy it could get in the Olympian village. The organization splurged on condoms to keep the athletes clean instead of trying to avoid what could not. The equation as she saw it was fairly simple yet with many possibilities. Handsome man plus sexy female equals lots of sex...Sexy female plus sexy female equals (still) hot, dirty sex...And even if you went with handsome man plus handsome man, the result would still amount to hot, dirty fucking.

Such was the "curse" of athletic, beautiful people thrown together in an adrenaline packed event where you can know your greatest joy one day and your biggest deception the next. Though she felt her sarcastic streak vibrate, it was just basic human nature. People meet, they intertwine, share and feelings arise...whether they be sensual, lustful ones or of the loving kind. Humans need connection, we thrive with it and long for it sometimes, it only makes sense that this need would be heightened by high emotions.

She'd keep her options open during the Olympics but she was definitely not the kind of player who fucks all night long before a big game. She liked focus, clarity and peace before games. She needed to put herself in a little bubble with no phone, no social media or anything like that. She would listen to music, read a book and draw to relax but she tried to stay clear of the TV- only indulging in Netflix to watch an episode or two of series she liked...No binge watching sessions of House Of Cards either before a big game, she knew her limits and Frank Underwood's shenanigans rendered her powerless to stop at two episodes.

Her games would not be as orgasmic as her fellow athletes, too many games for her to screw everything with a pulse and a vagina. Other than her games schedule, there was also the matter of Russia's blatant disrespect and intolerance bordering on pure and simple hate towards gays and the already fueled gossips back home. Last thing she needed was to be caught on camera or by a journalist eavesdropping on her. It would only lead to reports of scandalous behavior, on her part, another hassle she definitely did not need on top of everything else. She wanted to make a good impact on society, show them that being gay- and from the LGBT community in general- was okay. No, they were not sex crazed maniacs who were unable to hold a steady relationship. No, their actions were neither immoral nor shameful. And no, she didn't want to fuck every female she encountered.

For starters she wasn't that desperate, and though Bella was not exactly the poster child for commitment, she didn't fuck a different woman every night. Her schedule was much too crazy for that. Not to mention that she actively tried to keep her sex and love life from the media, which needed a bit of trust to work, drastically reducing the number of her actual conquests. Of course, if you read any online gossip sites or the tabloids, she was supposedly seen left and right with celebrities she had never even met and allegedly leaving a trail of broken hearts in her wake but those rumors never stick.

Most times the claims were so ridiculous she wouldn't even bother address them and her game was so far besting itself seasons after seasons, making her untouchable in the eyes of many hockey fans and yes, many gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgenders as well.

Her fans were quite vocal about their support in the wake of her coming out and that outweighed any hate mail or death threat in the world. Bella still had trouble getting the concept that she had actual, human beings to call fans. She tried to be active on the social media when she could, tweeting a pic here and there, posting a link to music she liked...She pimped out her relatives' businesses and causes who were dear to her, or just retweeted the funny shit people said about her, she gave a shout out to fans sometimes as well. Today she tweeted a selfie in front of their hotel with the words "_Sochi,Krasnodar Krai,Russia._

_Can't wait to play for #TeamUSA in #WinterOlympics_" before going towards the lobby to join the coach and get her room key.

Like everyone on the skating team, both men and women's hockey team were housed in a compound on the Olympic village, close to the ice rink location, to avoid unnecessary commutes and allow the teams to stay focused on their objectives. The ski teams, Alpine and Nordic alike- including the wild child that was Freestyle- shared an hotel as well, up on the mountains in Krasnaya Polyana, near the Roza Khutor mountains where ski and snowboard events where held.

The team had previously agreed on sleeping arrangements as their roster was composed of twenty one player, divided in ten groups of two and one odd man out. She was the lucky one who had won the coin toss and the single room. Her teammates had tried to bargain with her and offer favors in exchange for the room but Bella did not budge, she would love every minute of silence at night and enjoy the peace too much to trade it for anything else.

Team life was too intense for her sometimes. She got along quite well with most players- they had to if they wanted to win, at least to some extent. They were petty bitches in the team as well of course, though she was good friends with a few dozen of her fellow players- still, she liked the privacy the single room would afford her.

"Swan, get your head off the clouds and your ass in your room" Jacob, their coach, interrupted her daydreams as he shouted from the reception desk. It seemed the man had no other mode than the shouting one, nevertheless she liked his abrasive personality. He gave no bullshit talks, was skilled in tactics and understood when to give them a little leeway- both on and off the rink.

"Yes, coach. Which floor are we on?"

"Second. Room 22 for you, Swan. Listen up, everyone" Jacob tried to get everyone's attention and gathered us around him, "you have two hours of free time. I would advise sleeping, with the jet lag, you'll need all the rest you can get. Those of you who don't need beauty sleep can take a walk but I don't want anyone in the Olympic village or outside of my sight without security with them. Be responsible ladies, no need to flaunt our flag. We meet here in two hours for lunch and I will know what our schedule for training will look like if I can find the goddamn translator we were supposed to get...Never mind, get going and be safe." He turned towards the Team USA officials after dismissing his team, engaging in what seemed to be a battle of will. Jacob had a short fuse and he wouldn't be deterred so easily if he wanted something.

Her room was nice, with a small balcony overlooking a garden in front of the Canadian compound perhaps...she couldn't tell for sure, though she thought she saw a Canadian tracksuit on one of the players who had just entered. No flags for her team, sadly, they had been instructed to lay low by an official email after the two consecutive attacks in Volgograd last December. The morning following the bombings, every athlete received it to advise them on security measures and precautions they could take to be safe while in Russia. Her parents had been afraid for her safety, as were many other families who had a child competing in the Winter Games for their country. They were reassured when the US government announced that they would be provided with FBI agents and private security to ensure their safety at all times. Still, her first Olympics were somewhat tainted right from the beginning. First, it was security concerns, then the overwhelming background of Russia traditionalist views and outrageous anti-gays policy, not to forget the controversy it had sparked for her. It felt weird, she was anxious to play for her team and compete for the gold yet uneasy with the circumstances and the weight people tried to put on her shoulders.

After a quick shower, she called her mother who berated her.

"How come _the twitter_ knows where you are before your mother, sweetheart? Your brother just called me to tell me something weird about you tending on it-"

"_Trending_, Mom, it's when people talk about you. I'm sorry, I didn't

think. We arrived thirty minutes ago-"

"How was your flight, baby? Did you sleep?" Her mom, Esme, ever the worrier, just had to cut in and ask.

"Yeah, two hours maybe? I have another hour and a half before we have lunch."

"Alright, I won't bother you much then sweetheart. Be safe, baby, please be careful out there."

"It's Russia, Mom, not a war zone, besides we have plenty of security, you know that" she answered lightly despite her reservations. No need to fuel her mother's anxiety any more with her own.

"I'm your mother, darling. I will always worry about my babies, it can't be helped. Carlisle said to tell you he loves you. Oh and you need to work on your Howitzers, whatever that means."

"He's back in coach mode huh?" She laughed. Her father had a tendency to think he was still coaching his little girl. He would actually debrief most of her games with her afterward, by phone if he had to, never missing an opportunity to tell his favorite player what she could improve in her game. She loved him for it, even if some of her teammates sometimes teased her with it, "tell him I will and I love you both, Mom. Don't worry too much and we'll talk sometimes tomorrow, OK? I'll try to call after practice, whenever that is."

"Perfect. We love you Isabella, be safe."

" Yes, me too. Bye, Mom." She retrieved her headphones from the bedside table to put some music on her phone. She thought briefly about her sightseeing plans but those would have to wait, with the jet lag hitting her again, she was in no mood for a grand tour. Bella crawled under the sheets and set her Keaton Henson play list on to lure herself to sleep. His songs always soothed her; his music seemed almost dreamlike on some notes, haunting, soft and childish at the same time. She put both albums on repeat and set her alarm before closing her eyes, slowly lulled to sleep.

After a brief struggle to wake the fuck up, Bella met with her team barely on time. They ate lunch in the compound's cafeteria. Their coach's choice of typical meal for his team consisted of steamed rice with chicken and beans. Not her favorite, but good enough to sustain her body during competition, she'd give him that. Lunch was timed- as was her whole life these days, it came with the territory for competitive athletes regardless what sport they played. They had thirty minutes to eat before grabbing their gear in their respective rooms and heading to the bus waiting for them -it damn sure beat walking to the ice rink with a heavy bag like she did back in high school. The damn thing weighed a ton with her helmet, gloves, pads, custom skates, stick and team jersey. And yes, she said jersey and not sweater, no matter how offensive it could be to some purists. The feud opposing ancients to moderns was alive and well in hockey. She had personally witnessed countless fights involving fans, anonymous or people she knew arguing for hours on the terminology debate _sweater_ versus _jersey. _The traditional lingo was fervently praised by some- a ritual of sorts, something that was not to be questioned- the word was firmly ingrained in them. Players still proudly called it by the same name is had first been dubbed- historically, hockey was played outdoors and players would sweat in their warm sweaters, hence the name- as if to honor the ancient garment worn originally. There was the idea that a tradition passed down from generation was alive to this day, perpetuating the glory of their sport. Most of those ardent fans typically ended their rant by declaring it was blasphemy to do otherwise, period. _Jerseys_ were to be left to basketball, baseball and the likes; the marketers and basically the Americans.

If at all possible, one should always frown condescendingly at whoever dared to utter such sacrilegious word. Ridiculous, right? It went a bit far sometimes, but sports make people irrational every now and then. It gets their adrenaline rushing when their team score a goal, their heart pumps faster and they feel happy through proxy. Despite the risk of offending the Canucks and traditionalists alike, she would continue to call hers a _jersey_.

Their coach had been able to secure the last training spot of the day, right after the figure skaters from whatever country ended their practice. On the menu was basic training, a bit of skating around to familiarize themselves with the 15 feet longer rink than the barns they were used to back home, in compliance with the international regulation. They would also shoot some goals and divide their team in two to play a quick game. Nothing but a regular day for Bella. In addition to every one of her regular team practice, she'd tack one hour of solo shoots on the ice after the team left, which she credited for her sniper talent. She had no secret weapon but strength, hard work, bravery along with a fierce competitiveness coupled to imagination. And yes, maybe she'd plead guilty on the cocky front; she'd dialed it down but knew perfectly well how good she was, and her confidence shone in her game. She put some of the more creative moves out there and got more attention each day. Hockey specialists did not hesitate to compare her stats to her male counterparts anymore which thrilled her father.

The team regrouped in The Room after practice, dressing before the coach explained they would debrief practice, game tactics and what they knew so far about their opponents back in the US compound. Jacob always got paranoid as the competition approached and he wouldn't let anyone non essential to their staff get access to any of their team briefings. They jokingly mocked him for it, because there's only so much originality one can input to hockey tactics but it served them well so far...and to his credit, the man did have some unheard before strategy sometimes.

Slightly frustrated to be heading back with no time to spare for her extra training, Bella had talked to him and asked that he set up something for her with the organization to allow her to come back later that night. The man was only too happy to oblige, no coach in their right mind had ever forbidden more training for their athletes and Jacob Black was no exception. He was pleased to see the length she would go to achieve her goals and her commitment to help the whole team succeed.

They were going towards their room when someone bumped into her. Startled by the impact with a foreign body, Bella could barely make out a shape underneath a red hoodie adorned with the Russian flag. The person, probably expecting to hit the ground after their collision, let out a girlish squeak as her hood fell down her back. She was beautiful; one of those women who made every head turn with her full lips, button nose and deep blue eyes. Those baby blues could most likely get her anything, she thought as she gazed at the alluring woman Fate decided to dangle, so cruelly, in front of her face. Bella's quick reflex helped the slender woman regain her footing as her hands captured her arms, pulling her in close to steady the Slavic picture of perfection. Though she couldn't see past all those winter layers what she saw was enough to convince Bella that luscious curves got along just fine on that lithe body.

"Sorry, didn't see you. You OK?" Shaking off her horny thoughts, apologized to the other woman who was now watching her, a deep frown marring her face. She tried again after a minute of silence when the expression on the Russian's face turned to one of anger. Her blazing eyes glared Bella down. There was a hint of curiosity laced with contempt and indignation in there, perhaps a touch of aggressiveness as well as an unspeakable heaviness radiating from the woman.

Intrigued as fuck, Bella tried to recollect the few words she had learned in Russian for the occasion. "Pri`vet, I'm Bella" she said, pointing towards herself, "I'm sorry...huh...izvi`nite?" Clearly, she was not that impressive in the language if the blank stare she earned with her effort was any indication...

"I'm pretty fucking sure you don't have a clue what I'm trying to say, right?" She sighed at her own ignorant ass. She had tried to learn a bit of Russian before Sochi. In her defense though, the language was so freaking difficult to grasp, with a whole different alphabet and unfamiliar sounds to pronounce. Unfortunately, she didn't have enough time to delve deeper into it, hockey took precedence in every aspect of her life, that was the cost she paid- gladly- for her spot in Team USA's roster.

That did not left much time for any other hobby, hence the piss poor attempt she had just made. The woman looked at her curiously and grunted, before she sent her a deadly glare assorted with a quick string of Russian words Bella could not understand and went on her way.

Well okay, then. Apparently Russia was still not their number one fan...


	3. Chapter 3

**From Russia With Love**

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say.** Enjoy & thanks for reading.**

**Special thanks to those who put my story on alert/favorite and to my reviewers : **

**koolawantxox4u** – Russian words will probably slip here and there quite a lot, so better brush up on your Russian...Ah yes, didn't even think about it, nice catch ;) I'm glad you like it.

**Shelley421 –** Wait til you see her temper...

I have it on good authority that their path will cross again sooner rather than later.

**theoneandonlyts** – I hope you like this chapter just as much

**UnrehearsedPatterns** - To be honest, I thought about it. She even tried to wrestle Rosalie's part away from her. There was a mud fight, it wasn't pretty, she lost and got the sister-in-law gig...But I might still do something, after all she's the one with the goddamn Russian name lol...

**casp43va** – They're biding their time ;) If everything goes according to my plans ( and that's a big if ), then yes. I'm not completely dismissing a Tanya POV though if the inspiration steers me in that direction.

**Torni** – Training, training and more training...nah, I kid. There will be training, yes, but also exploring, awkward Skype calls, tensions and I'm not saying any more...

**Juiny24 – L.L.L – **Ask and ye shall receive...TADA!

**tlc125 – **Wow...That's some high praise and kind words, hopefully I won't disappoint such a high standard ;)

**Zombie35** – It's not gonna be all rainbows and unicorns, I can give you that :D

**Iceyulookin – **No worries, I'm glad you took the time to leave a review at all

**Kara-24** – I have a confession. I don't speak Russian at all and don't read Cyrillic. I do my research though, to get more insight on Russia, its language and its culture. So, when I got your review I did what any person living in the 21th century would have done- Yeah, I'll shamefully admit I used an online translator lol, you will have to forgive me if the translation mislead me but I think I got the gist of what you meant.

About the Russian law, I do know that the law voted by the Duma forbids what they called "gay propaganda", and I know that it stems from the very conservative right wing. Two things on that. First, defining _propaganda_ is actually very sketchy...Would a talk explaining homosexuality (in a neutral, informative way) made in school to kids be considered as such? And is a manifestation pro-gay rights viewed as such? From what I've read and seen, it would be a glaring yes. In that respect, I think it can fairly be viewed- especially by foreigners- as an anti gay policy. I didn't want to give a black and white perspective to this story, you'll see some love for the Russian culture later on..I think Russia is a country with a strained history, yet an important country -on a world scale, in many aspects ( as shown in the Ukraine crisis...We'll never be able to solve the problem without Lavrov, Medvedev or Putin at the negotiation table), but it might be stuck on its "glorious past". Perhaps people spend too much time worrying about conservatism and religion to see the world is changing? Ultimately, I'm not saying every Russian is homophobic, just like you cannot say the USA has no homophobes; but that law is a big step backwards and sometimes in the future, it'll have to change. And don't get me started on the "children protection" argument lol-

On English, who said she didn't? She might surprise you yet, and you know how that goes, not everyone speaks the language, despite schools teaching it. Besides, it is actually a very US thing to do, to expect people to speak English wherever Americans travel so, one might say Americans need to learn more languages as well ;)

Hopefully I answered some of your concerns and again, I'm trying not to give too Manichean a perspective to this story- there will be some criticism of the USA as well... Though you will have to remember, the POV is that of a US girl, and as I said in the story, there's a lot of History there (and probably many past resentment & stereotypes in the way on both part), hopefully it won't deter you from reading the next chapter.

**Guest** – I was right in the middle of writing when I got your review, it re-motivated me to finish sooner ;)

**ScarlettArcher** – Here, I'm feeding the beast...Let it be known that I'm not one to avoid taking responsibility!

**I own nothing but my ideas and words. Everything else belongs to its rightful owner.**

**[chapter 3 – b`lyad'! ]**

She was going to let it go, really she was. Bella figured she'd be the adult there and let the ice princess go on her merry way, but at the last moment, she decided otherwise.

"Wouldn't have killed you to answer me, Princess," she shouted to the Russian's retreating back. There. Childish, true, but satisfying nonetheless. And come on, she acted as if she couldn't be bothered to be nice when really, it was her own damn fault they collided in the first place. If she had looked where she was going, then maybe she wouldn't have to talk to Bella, who had just been too well brought up by her parents not to be polite.

Yeah, OK, so maybe the fact that the blond was easy on the eyes hadn't hurt. Still, she had apologized nicely because that was the thing to do. That was the thing civilized, normal people did. But hey, one could dream...Maybe a death glare and a grunt was Russian code for "_apology accepted_".

Angela, who had jogged back to her side, teased her, "well well well...Look at you, Swan, making friends already?"

Both of them had been friends since high school, attending the same dreary place in bumfuck, USA. They had trained together for years and Bella was glad to have her there. While she held no doubts about her abilities as a player, she relied heavily on her friend on the ice. Every player did; a hockey team is only as good as their goaltender, and she knew that old NHL saying to be true. She could score all the goals in the world, if Angela did not back that up with solid saves, her efforts would be in vain, and their team nowhere near that good.

They had shared a lot of firsts together- among which their junior days, championship titles and of course, making the National Team; wearing their country's colors on their jersey for the very first time. All those had been glorious, humbling, rewarding and incredible adventures they had been fortunate enough to be a part of; and figured prominently in both player's top five life experiences. Yet none of those could ever compare to their first Olympics. They had worked so freaking hard for it, and were glad to be able to share it with each other once more. If she hadn't won that coin toss, they would probably be rooming together; though as things stood, Angela had gotten lucky enough to agree with Kate, their best left wing defense player, upon housing arrangements.

"Yeah, yeah, mock me...Not everyone has a significant other, some of us actually have to work for it" she berated Angela.

"Ah, but I do have to work for it! Do you know how many goddamn pole dancing lessons I took last year just to give my man a freaking show and a lap dance?"

Bella could not help her laughter, "I do remember actually, and I'd say a dozen off the top of my head?"

"Exactly. If that's not love-"

"Sure, if love is a cheap whore in a dingy bar on the Las Vegas strip," she cut her off.

The whole thing was hilarious. Angela's boyfriend, Ben, had declared after a long night of drinking, at Bella's house, with a few friends; that he'd never had a lap dance even though it was on his bucket list. Long story cut short, her friend had drunkenly promised him his wet dream, and they ended up shagging in her guest room, while she cleaned up the mess and had a last drink with an ex. Problem was, the next morning, poor Angela had found out her man could be extremely attentive while wasted and very much lucid while hungover.

Decided to own up to her bragging about giving him everything he'd ever dreamed of- her words, however slurred- she had taken the lessons to give him a killer routine for his birthday. He hadn't seen it coming, but Ben was still in starry-eyed wonder the next day, she could attest to that.

"Shucks...Stop spoiling my fun. What did you do? Can't you try to be nicer when you meet people?" Angela asked in an exasperated tone.

"Well fuck, don't hold back huh? I didn't do anything. The Russian bumped into me, I apologized, she was rude. End of story-"

"Oh come on, Swan, can't you see I'm living vicariously through you? I need some sparks, a little something to whet my appetite...Was she hot? Did she find you hot? What did you say to her?" Angela grabbed her arm and dragged her along as she enthusiastically questioned her.

"First of all, she's Russian. And she was OK," Bella did not want to throw the bubbly goalie a bone. Angela was her friend, one of the best she had in fact, but the woman was a terrible gossip. She couldn't help it, things just slipped out of her mouth as if she had no control over it. Come to think of it, she probably lacked a regular brain-to-mouth filter, sometimes babbling endlessly without realizing what she revealed- unlike Lauren, a bitter, aging player on their team who was plainly vicious and would literally do anything to outshine people, on and off the ice. The woman was a bitch, there was no other word for it. She took a particular pleasure in demeaning others, which Bella thought said a lot about her own self confidence. She had to know that she was a lesser player- barely a few steps beyond average these days- than some of their roster's girls, most of them couldn't even comprehend why Coach Black would even bother putting her on the team at all. Rumor had her alternatively fucking a Team USA executive, an IOC member or the head of their PR staff.

Bella didn't particularly care, that was their private life. But if it impacted her team, then that was another matter altogether. Their team was very competitive, mostly due to their nation's international rank in hockey and the love people had for it. There was no shortage of players to choose from for the Olympics roster, so every spot had been fought for, well maybe most of them...

"Yeah, true, but she looked pretty damn fine to me. And I only got a glimpse. Wouldn't that be romantic? You could get back from Sochi with a gold medal and a wife. Not bad for two weeks, huh?" Angela eagerly interrupted her train of thoughts, making her chuckle at her friend's never ending excitement.

That was one of the reasons she loved her; she could get on with anything, see the positive in most things. Her teammate was a vibrant woman, she brightened everything she touched, and was friendly with everyone...hell, the woman probably never had an enemy in her whole damn life, while Bella could come off as more feisty, opinionated, to put things mildly. She had a sarcastic streak a mile wide and a _slight_ temper that could not be helped any more than her friend's lively, babbling ways.

"Right, absolutely...And what, live happily every after with my Russian mail ordered bride? Not to burst your bubble Angie, but for starters, I'm practically sure she's not gay. And again, she's Russian. How cliche would that be? I can already see the headlines. _Shockingly treacherous love affair in Winter Games_, or something along those lines...So yeah, I'll pass."

"You're such a fucking downer. OK, so maybe I was too enthusiast, but-"

"You think?"

"As I was saying," she started again, with a bite, "maybe I went a bit overboard, but think about it. Don't you want to settle down, B?"

"With the woman I know nothing about and had about 2 whole minutes of actual human interaction with? Are you out of your goddamn mind?" Bella stopped walking in front of their compound to gape at her friend while their security detail warily observed them.

"Quit being so fucking dramatic, Swan. I meant in general. In a keep your options open kinda way, not in a get her back kicking and screaming; drag the woman by her hair to throw her over your shoulders, and lock her in your cave for a shotgun wedding, Jesus." Angela smiled at her, with an exasperated look on her face and a wagging finger.

"Thank fuck for that. Why didn't you say so in the first place? I figured too much happiness had finally killed your common sense," she replied as they entered the compound; agents still on their tails as most of their teammates had already gone into their room to put their gear away.

"Ugh, you-" Angela's phone rung, interrupting their friendly little squabble. She took out her phone to see her fiancee's name flash and turned towards her. "It's Ben, I have to take it before debriefing. Meet you here in ten?"

"Sure, tell him I said hi."

Literally saved by the bell, Bella went upstairs to her room. She took a quick shower, dressed in jeans, a white tank top and her warm Team USA sweater- no debate on that term, it was their official, Ralph Lauren designed uniform. Though she had mixed feelings about it at first, she had to admit that the sweater was warm and comfy. And there was something kind of cool about having an actual fashion designer tailor their outfits, or at least most of their fellow American athletes thought so, her included.

Obviously, there was the matter of the design itself, which many had deemed ridiculous and much too conspicuous. One thing was for certain however, no one could mistake them for any other country delegation but the blind. White stars dotted the entire thing; the rear was more plain than its front- in dark blue color with _USA_ written in big, bold red letters circled in white and stars sprinkled all over it. The other side was another story entirely...At first, she had thought it might be her, that she was just not fashionable enough to appreciate such a style. But no, the outfits had been ridiculed quite a bit all over the country.

With their patchwork of red, white and blue, its strangely shaped stars and red pocket lining, not to mention anything about the blue _Sochi_ written on it; the design made for a flashy garment. The right side breast pocket emblazoned with their flag above the Olympics rings didn't help and neither did the year, _2014_, sewn underneath it. Overall, there was a lot of criticism around them, though some people did find them fantastic. She figured a sweater was a sweater, no matter what color or shape it was and the only thing she really wanted out of it was warmth. Obviously, she was thankful they weren't neon green or something; still, it mattered very little in her opinion.

The team met for debrief a little while later. Coach Black drilled them for two hours, highlighting their opponents strengths and weak points, with great accuracy. The man had a good eye for the game and could spot a play from a mile away. Due to their second place in the IHF World Ranking, Team USA received an automatic berth into the Games. Although that was a relief, it also meant that their first games in the Olympics would have lower stakes; and players sometimes let that cloud their judgment. Either they could forget to take their first game, and each one following, seriously and lose to a lesser team; or they could do well in their first game but be too cocky and crack under the higher pressure in the next ones.

There was a million other scenarios that Bella could run through her head, and their coach could input whatever tactics to their plays; it wouldn't matter if they were not strong, maybe even much so mentally, when the day came. There was no exact science to sports, and Olympics were a special brand of competition. There were favorites, sure, but an outsider could surprise anyone in such a rare, international event. Some of those players would not compete in the next one, whether it be because of their age or the injury that hadn't happened yet. Everyone knew that, there was this overwhelming sense of a one-shot opportunity in the Games, the chance of a lifetime to grab a medal and make history. And Bella knew quite well that no one is as dangerous as someone with nothing to lose. Regardless, she listened to her coach attentively and participated actively to their debrief.

Finally dismissed by their coach afterward, she went back to her room, booted up her computer and tried to launch Skype. Operative word being _tried. _The connection was pretty bad, but it would have to do. She was hoping to speak to her younger brother, who couldn't make it for their last family dinner. Emmett was studying to be a lawyer at Harvard, and he could not take any time off in his busy year to take a trip home. Bella understood, he had his priorities, much like she did and after all, her brother was achieving his life long dream as well. She could remember when they were young, Edward and her would fight to play pretend and be a criminal or a cop, while the youngest of their family would want to argue their innocence and set them free. He had been adamant he would be a lawyer when he grew up, a call to action TV shows had probably raised.

Their brother was a weird child, a perfect mesh of their parents personalities; he could be extremely rambunctious, astute in his observation of the world that surrounded them- a trait all three of them had picked up from their father- although their brother was the one with the most empathy. Edward was a jerk, she could be a bitch too, but Emmett? Never hurt a fly in his entire goddamn life. Edward was easy going, she had a feisty temper and Emmett a gentle soul.

The most funny and awkward thing had been during his teenage years. He had a spur of growth and suddenly caught up to Edward's height; taller than her 5ft9 at that time, in less than a year. He had buffed up too, thanks to their mother insisting they all take self defense lesson. Both boys had hit the gym more than ever after that, sweating away the testosterone that wracked havoc on their mind and body alike.

She wasn't oblivious, Bella knew they-or at least Edward; as their younger brother mainly followed in his elder sibling's steps- had realized women liked men with muscles. Well, most women that is.

Her? She had waited a bit for that magical boy. The one she would want to make "kissy faces" with as a child; only to grow up and lust after said young man. He, so thoroughly advertized to her by Disney, romantic comedies and silly books since her childhood, seemed to elude her. Oh, she had plenty of friends in the male gender category, but none whatsoever to entice her.

Bella listened to her friends talk about boys like the most precious thing on Earth. They wanted to kiss them, hold their hands, pass notes with them during class, and all the stuff little girls can dreamily imagine at a certain age. But none of those things held any appeal to her. Bella would cringe in disgust every time she'd think about one of those gross, disgusting, lizard chasing little boys planting one on her. Back then, the kid she was figured it just wasn't her thing; that maybe she'd end up as a nun or something. She vowed never to let any boy touch her lips, her hand or get near her in any other capacity than as friends.

Her revelation came in the form of Sue Clearwater, a petite brunette she went to school with. That girl, she was the one who made Bella understood why people talked about butterflies in your stomach, tied tongues and dumbstruck expressions. At ten years old, she thought the brunette with the cute pigtails and pink bows was everything she could ever want. No need for a knight when she had a princess. Of course she tried to kiss her, after her brother had told her she needed to take the initiative with the enchanting little lady. He had caught her doodling their names in her notebook, one time at recess, as she gazed at the object of her affection from afar. He had teased her endlessly, but promised he wouldn't say anything to either their parents nor their older brother- only too happy that she had confessed to him, the baby of the family, first. Bella got a broken nose, courtesy of Sue, and a wounded pride.

The next day, in a show of bravery to distract the gossip from his older sister, Emmett had kissed Sue's twin brother, Sam. Turns out her little brother had liked it just as much as her heartbreaker's twin. And while she had nothing but a sloppy kiss, bruises on her face and a slight, permanent deviation on her nose to show for her life changing revelation, Emmett had met his soul mate. Go figure.

Both boys had been together for such a long time, she had trouble remembering a time before that. They shared an apartment near the Harvard campus where Sam had followed Emmett, to study criminal science, in the hope of becoming a cop. As they had been a steady couple for so many years, their parents easily approved their move together and found them a great place to start their life away from home.

She logged into Skype, put her sound on and checked to see if she had any emails while it booted. She was interrupted by a call popping on her screen, with her brother's better half as an avatar. Sitting with her legs crossed on her bed and the laptop across her knees, Bella accepted the call.

"Hi, Bells" Sam waved at her from his couch, in much the same position as she was, his smiling face brightening her day.

"Hey you, how's life in the good ole US of A today?"

Sam laughed, "not that grand I'm afraid. We had a shitty weather all day long and I'm so fucking tired it's not even funny anymore. How are you? Did you see the ice rink yet?"

"Oh, poor thing, we all know how much you love the rain," she replied to her future brother-in-law. "I'm good, yes I've seen it, it's like any barn back home but longer. Still freezing cold and still hurts like a bitch when you fall though. And if you're so tired, I'm sure a Doctor would advise you to cut back on your extracurricular activities with my brother, cut him off or something," she smirked at the dark-skinned Native American young man her brother loved so much.

"Ah ah, smart ass-" he was cut off by Emmett yelling, "I heard that. And fuck you, Bella, don't give him any idea." The voice got progressively louder as her brother came into the frame to throw his arms around Sam from behind he couch. He kissed his boyfriend's head and greeted his sister, "hi B, how's sochi?"

"Well hello to you too, brother mine. One might have thought you'd call your _only_ sister earlier-"

"You didn't call? You idiot," Sam hurriedly said, "I told him to call you," as he whacked her goof of a brother in the back of his head, "that's rude, even for you, Em."

"But, but...I wanted to, I swear I meant to call you Bells, I just forgot," he whined, making puppy dog eyes at his lover.

"It's cool, bro, really I was just teasing. I know you're busy so-"

"I'm gonna watch all your games though, B, scouts honor." The idiot looked at her through the camera and held three fingers up, straight in front of him, taking the most earnest expression he could muster.

"You've never been a scout, Emmett, but I appreciate the support," she winked at her younger brother. Sam turned to his lover with a glazed, lustful look in his eyes, "but you could be..Can't we buy those sexy uniforms online?"

"Anything for you, baby," he replied in a sultry voice, smirking at his boyfriend.

"And that's my cue. I'll talk to you guys later. Have fun," she chuckled at the men on her screen, deep in their love bubble or something similarly hazy; she was nothing but noise to their background. They snapped out of it long enough to say goodbye and tell her to be careful, along with a request to call them whenever she could.

Grabbing her gear, Bella headed downstairs to find an agent to accompany her to the ice rink, notifying Coach Black by text in case he came to check on them, later that evening. Aro, her assigned security detail for the night drove them in an unmarked black SUV, so typically FBI she could have sworn they were back home. He lead her safely towards the dressing room, his eyes sweeping the perimeter before giving her the all clear.

She put her skates on her feet , not bothering to change her jeans or put on her official outfit- with the exception of her jersey and gloves. When she came out of the room with her stick and puck, the agent sat on a bench, in front of the door leading to the ice, playing with his phone. He nodded at her a she went in.

She entered through the double doors, ready to work on her killer aim when she heard music, followed by what sounded awfully like a crash. As she looked around to find the source of the noise, she heard a voice she recognized; screaming among other words she couldn't distinguish, "b`lyad'!"


	4. Chapter 4

**From Russia With Love**

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say.** Enjoy & thanks for reading. **

**Special thanks to those who put my story on alert/favorite and to my reviewers. I'm surprised every time I get an alert on my phone! I appreciate your support, just as much as I like hearing your take on the plot and any criticism or comment you might have. **

**lurryforever - **Glad to see you back!

**Niqo – **Thanks, I have a thing for cave women ;)

**setchan-1995 – **Hopefully, you'll still be there at the end of this one...

**tlc125 – **He will probably pop up every once in a while, so you will get another glimpse (at least) of their easy going relationship. Just as I intended, things will start moving along albeit slowly, maybe...I won't reveal too much of my little plot ;). Thank _you_ for your reviews.

**Alana94xx – **Thank you, here you go, let me know what you think of this one.

**Guest – **Wow, I'm always amazed to get such nice reviews! I'm very grateful you'd think so.

**BellaFan – **Then I've reached my goal. I've been thinking about it, I might include it in the story, perhaps not in a big way but I will probably at least mention it. Hang in there, and be patient with me, the ride's just not over yet...I promise more interactions in the coming chapters for our favorite ladies, in fact I have it on good authority that chapter 5 should be full of it.

**[chapter 4 – Zvezdu, padshuyu** ** ]**

She approached and was greeted by a glorious sight, confirming her suspicions. The bitchy Russian beauty was right in front of her, flat on her ass, in the middle of the ice rink- the same ice rink her coach had supposedly cleared for her. Slinking down the side towards the bench, not making her presence known just yet; she watched the blond swear again and hit her forehead in a show of utter frustration. Bella figured the athlete had been dispatched by the organization to train here, and they must have somehow fucked up their training slots, mixing them together or double booking them.

_'So, she was a figure skater huh_,' she thought, '_should have known.'_

The woman glided to the far left, getting up after what looked like a minor slip despite the noise. She leaped into the air to make what looked like three successive jumps to Bella's profane eyes. There was a weird moment where she tapped her toe on the ice, shocking the blade on her skates to the ice, in a very strange take-off.

Bella thought it was kind of awesome, in spite of her initial opinion of the sport. The movement was very graceful, the spiteful little Russian looked literally as if she was leaping from the ice to the air, with a smile on her red painted lips. Her eyes seemed to be scanning the area to ensure her safety once she landed; her concentration reflected on her face, but there was something else there. Perhaps an inherent softness to the woman, a little something that told her audience she was an amazon; soft yet strong, brutal yet gentle, a warrior her performance was fast and quite impressive, she'd have to admit that.

She had never been one to marvel at figure skating before, it fell into what she recognized as a _girly_ sport. A true tomboy at heart, she wouldn't have liked it a bit, as a little girl, if her parents had thrown her into figure skating- like so many of her friends in preschool. Sure, it was graceful, nice to watch and one could not deny the competitive aspect of the discipline; yet to her, it had always embodied what she would never do or be, to her mother's dismay. Bella would never be a damsel on distress, she just didn't have it in her to be a soft, fragile little female. And although her Mom would have rather put her daughter in a tutu to dance on the ice than have her be one of the boys; the little girl was undeterred, she would be a warrior on the ice, sweaty and bloody in the span of an hour, not a charming, delicate little flower, the picture of grace and womanly wiles.

Of course, since then, she had realized one could be many things and had evolved into her own kind of woman. Back in the days of her childhood, the world was simple, seen through the prism of her innocence, black and white; one could either be this or that, not a complex blend of gray areas, shady spaces where contradiction was a common denominator. That was what growing up did to you, she supposed.

The Russian did look good out there, she would gladly admit that. Her body was squeezed in a tight little outfit, showcasing her limber figure for everyone to see. That was another point she would never have been able to comply with, those damn things looked too damn tight. She'd wear her jersey any day over that.

The blond was doing some kind of tricks with her feet, but she had no knowledge sufficient enough enabling her to identify them. It looked like a dance step, light and sensual as she threw her arms gracefully from side to side, curling her fingers like an enticing Mata Hari, charming but lethal to her audience. The music was epic, leading crescendo into her delicate battle as she skated around the rink.

_Wow_, she thought, _now that is a great form of entertainment_. Slightly creepy, sure, albeit in a lurking pervert kind of way, maybe...But Bella wasn't complaining, and she had not moved a muscle, trying to blend to the background as she witnessed the incredible performance the Russian put on for her eyes only. Jesus, she needed to get in touch with her hormones and tell them to calm the fuck down. She could feel herself getting hornier as she was treated to a first class view of the Slavic vision's glorious ass. And it was glorious, no other way to put it. She had one of those perfectly curved behind with just the right amount of curves and muscles, bouncy yet firm. No one could expect her not to look at the damn thing, she wasn't a deviant but was only human. And very much attracted to the rival country's athlete. There, she said it. It didn't matter much, she had no intention to act on it, other than enjoying the delightful show a little while longer before alerting the woman to her presence.

She had to think about what mattered, and did need all the training she could get. Besides, there was no point in tempting the devil with beautiful, and apparently quite skilled, little temptresses she would never get to know. Her lust rooted her feet to the ground a few more minutes, letting her bask in the glorious body, along with the expressions on the Russian's features as she twisted her body in a series of jumps, twirls, and steps- each one more alluring than the other.

Fingering the helm of her jersey, she let herself be ensnared a little longer by the woman who attempted to execute another series of complicated jumps. To Bella's untrained eyes, it looked perfect, but on the third one, she lost her equilibrium and dropped in the middle of her figure. Her body hit the ice, the crash resonating all around them as she screamed faintly, not foreseeing her mistake until it happened.

Bella let out a small cry of surprise, it seemed to be going smoothly until the Russian girl twisted a bit too much. The fall was just as violent as some of those the hockey player had experienced along the years out there; she had fallen her fair share on the ice, everyone did, and practice does make perfect. There was no trial without errors, both sayings were particularly true regarding sport. Hers, just as figure skating, involved frozen water; most commonly known as _ice_, which hurts. A lot, especially when one's body connected forcefully with it.

However, the other athlete didn't get up; did not even move in fact, prompting Bella to action. She took off her skates guards and jumped onto the barn, running on the ice to join the blond, kneeling before her unmoving frame. She assessed her body quickly, looking for any visible injury. There was no trace of blood anywhere, either on the Russian or on the ice, and the spill might have been more impressive to watch than it actually felt. That was not that uncommon with their sports; yet Bella had this irrepressible upsurge of concern for the Russian, gnawing at her guts.

"Hey, wake up. Come on," she shook the other, trying to get her to regain consciousness.

She checked her pulse, suddenly afraid she'd have a dead Russian on her hands. She most definitely did not need that kind of incident or the unwanted attraction it would bring her. Still, even if the woman had been a bitch to her, she was not the kind of person who left another human being on the side of the road while she continued on her way. Not even her sarcastic ass was that cruel. The Slavic woman's pulse was perfectly steady, confirming her first impression. Hopefully, she wouldn't have a too long spiel and avoid a word Bella knew only too well, the dreaded _concussion_ which came with it.

She had vomited countless times after a fall, their helmets did protect them, but could only do so much when opposing teams were battling with each other in impressive shows of strength and speed. Accidents were bound to happen, humans hadn't been designed to skate on ice, it was just a fancy of theirs, a silly little hobby turned international competition which came with its fair share of controlled risk. She laid the Russian's head on her knees after shaking her once more without eliciting any coherent response from the athlete, not even a fluttering, nothing.

Close to a minute later, perhaps two as adrenaline made time hard to appreciate, she figured she should bring the injured woman out of the ice. That wasn't normal, Bella thought, and she should have woken up by now. Determining the woman couldn't weigh all that much- what with the whole leaping in the air thing, she gathered the figure skater in her arms. She went with a traditional lift, putting her hands under her arms and knees to help her support the Russian's body.

Struggling a bit under her weight, she got up and waddled off the ice. She laid the woman on the bench seats, trying to shake her again. Never getting an answer, she screamed for Aro, surmising he wouldn't have left his vigil near the door.

The man did not disappoint and immediately rushed in, looking alarmed as his eyes checked the perimeter- only to find her hovering over the Russian's body.

"Shit, Ms Swan. What did you do?" He gawked at her, springing into action at her side.

"I didn't do anything. For fuck's sake, what is it with you people?" She retorted to the stunned agent, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red while the anger over her Aro's accusation washed over her.

"Of course, of course...It was an accident, I suppose? Don't worry," he said quickly as he checked the unconscious woman's pulse for himself. "We'll cover it. No problem. OK, here is how we're going to proceed. You're gonna go back to your room, act conspicuous and stay in there until-"

"What the fuck, Aro? I didn't do anything. I was watching her, she tried to jump and fell. On. Her. Own. I wasn't even on the ice when she fell. I did bring her back here. She's been unconscious for a minutes or two maybe," she cut him off, outraged by his insinuations.

She was rough sometimes, and a bitch for sure, but she wasn't a coward nor was she a murderer or whatever the fuck went through her detail's mind as he saw her above the unconscious woman.

"Ah, of course Miss Swan, I never meant-" Aro started, embarrassed by his assumptions.

Somehow, she insulted by his quickly drawn conclusions; though she had to concede to the man that her position could have looked ambiguous to an outside perspective.

"Whatever. We need to help her, call the Russian 9-1-1 or something. Is there someone we can reach out to? In our staff maybe?"

"I'm not certain what the protocol is. I suppose we should either find someone from the organization, her team or yeah, we could call someone but I'm not sure it is wise, Ms Swan," the man frowned at Bella, trying to come up with a solution to their current Russian problem.

The woman had still not moved a muscle, not even a twitch indicating she was about to wake up. They had to do something, they couldn't leave her there. Sure, she was from Russia, their main competition in these games, but she wasn't going to be deterred in her mission to assist the injured athlete by politics- whether it be geopolitics or sports wise. Running on instinct, she instructed her agent to reach out to their team's medical staff and ask for the hockey player's medic, the only one she knew and dealt with regularly, Charlie.

Within five minutes, he had joined them in the ice rink; his medic bag slung over his right shoulder, still slightly panting after his sprint down from their compound. He examined the woman thoroughly as she bit her nails, something she had the disgustingly annoying habit of doing every time she was thrown into a high stress situation, to her mother's consternation. She had picked up the habit as a child and was usually able to avoid it. Unless she felt particularly stressed, she did not let it get the best of her anymore.

Charlie took her vitals and wrote them on his notebook, checked the athlete's pupils before turning towards her and Aro. The agent hadn't moved a muscle either; she had to hand it to him, he had the mode _still_ down to a pat, not even tapping his fingers as the events unfolded. She, on the other hand, was broadcasting her anxiety to everyone with even a twinge of knowledge in body language.

"So?" She asked, impatiently, to her favorite doctor, eager to hear his prognosis.

"Nothing much, she hit her head pretty bad, I wouldn't be surprised if she had a commotion when she regains conscience. She already has a little bump on the back of her skull" explained the black haired, mustache wearing, middle-aged man.

"OK, when will she wake up?"

"Any time between now and fifteen minutes, but that depends. People rarely lose it for more than thirty, forty minutes, if her spill wasn't that bad-"

"No, she was not even fully in the air yet, she just-"

"She'll be alright, Bella, her vitals seem stable enough. Don't worry kid, the blond shouldn't stay out for the count much longer."

"Ah ah. What are we supposed to do with her?"

"You tell me, you're the one who brought me there," answered Charlie, smirking at her.

" I should bring her to the Russians, guys," interjected Aro, " we don't know how long she was supposed to be there, and last thing we need is to get them on our backs for kidnapping their star skater-"

"Star skater?" It never occurred to her that she'd be _that_ good.

"Well yeah, don't you know who she is?" Aro gaped at her.

" A better question yet would be how in the fuck do you know who she is?" She asked her agent, not so surprised by the fact that the beautiful blond was such an accomplished athlete in the end- they all were, albeit more or less known, sure; but still, they had to be to get their ticket to the Winter Games, so that wasn't as much a novelty as the fact her security detail was apparently well versed in the art of figure skating. Now, that was a shocking thought. There wasn't anyone on their security team that looked more creepy than this man. He had this aura about him, something that made people aware of the danger he could represent if he was so inclined. And while he had been nothing but nice to her, she wouldn't want to push him too much. He had a deep frown on his face as he weighed the different possibilities their situation afforded them.

Aro decided to call their head security first, while Charlie took care of their team staff. After debating the issue for more than five minutes, they decided to bring the Russian to their quarters, unless someone on their staff could reach a member of the organization or her team before hand, as none of them could come up with any other kind of plan. They couldn't in good conscience leave her right there, she needed to be monitored for a while- as per Charlie's orders and there was no one in sight.

Aro took the Russian in his arms as they walked back to the compound. They were trying to be discreet, neither of them wanting to be in the middle of a commotion anymore than they wanted to endure the ire of any of the player's team. While they were trying to be helpful, distrust was still very prominent between both countries and there was no guarantee their story would be believed by Russia's officials, until the injured skater regained consciousness. Bella had barely time to rush to the dressing room to change her skates for her boots and they were on their way. Charlie was still talking to the head of their PR staff, explaining their little debacle, which earned him James' ire, before she reached out and asked him to pass her the phone.

"What the hell were we supposed to do, James? Leave her out there, unconscious and alone? Would that have been a better option for you? Shit, James, try thinking like a human for once, instead of a fucking press manager."

"Yes, of course, Bella, I'll reach out to the Russians. Will she corroborate your story? It's not a-"

"What? You think I need to rape women to get laid? Holy fuck, you guys are unbelievable. She didn't even know I was there, it happened maybe five minutes after I got there. She fell, I went on the ice, shook her up a bit then got her out of there. That's it. Not much of a story there." She understood the stakes were high, but these people were unbelievable.

"OK, OK, Jesus, don't get upset, I had to ask, you know that. Tabloids could spin it-"

"I'm perfectly aware, thank you, James. You'll try to get a hold of her team? Aro says she's the star of their figure skating team-"

"How the fuck does he know that?" Asked the man, about as incredulous as she had been. Big, creepy men did not exactly scream figure skating fan, hence both of their astonishment at his apparent knowledge of the sport.

"Beats the hell out of me."

"Never mind, I can work with that. Just come back with her and we'll deal with it here," he reassured her in a no nonsense tone of voice.

"Good. We're almost there," she said as she hung up on the bewildered man.

They walked a bit faster, Aro seemed more anxious than he had been before their call, uneasy about the turn things had taken in the evening. Bella didn't much care, weird things happening made life interesting. Besides, the man had been quite efficient, hell he'd been prepared to cover up a murder- or an unfortunate accident at the very least- if his initial assumptions were anything to go by. That would probably fall into the realm of things that were funny when you thought back on them much, _much_ later on; _the day _every people she got in contact with pegged her as an accidental murderer...

They met with James at the door of the compound. He was speaking on his phone, hissing something she couldn't understand at his interlocutor while he paced back and forth, waiting for their arrival. When he saw them, he rushed outside and ushered them into the compound, demanding a thorough explanation. Again.

"Not now, James. We need to lay her down." Bella cut him off in the middle of his version of an interrogation, directing Aro towards the second floor and her room, to lay down the injured woman while they waited for her team to pick her up.

She took the time to observe the other woman, much like she did earlier when Charlie was examining her, and strangely enough she did not experience the same decrease in attraction that sometimes happen in second meetings. That moment, when one understands that they've built up this whole image of a beautiful creature they had the good fortune of meeting, only to be faced with their flaws. Parts of them seemingly less perfect than it was, missing that first meeting glory.

Of course, she had to still feel attracted to the gorgeous woman; it had been barely a day, but she could feel the Russian bombshell get under her skin. It must have been her bad karma, for no matter how much she wanted to indulge in her own weakness, she had to stay focused on her goal. Perhaps the Russian had been thrown into her path again, to confuse her and dazzle her a bit, to test her strength or some shit like that. Yeah, not likely, she knew that and was not particularly religious, nor did she believe in fate all that much. Where many people viewed signs from God or fate, she saw coincidences her mind tried to make sense of.

Looking at the feisty Slavic woman, she was stricken by the innocence she displayed unconscious, her facial features softened by peacefulness, just resting. Their short, previous encounter had not mattered, and neither did her nationality. In the spur of the moment, Bella had acted without thinking, spurned by her instincts to rescue the fallen beauty, the _zvezdu, padshuyu_. That wasn't the markings of Fate, it was decision making in the heat of the moment, along with attraction and a smudge of foolishness.

There was still that nagging, this annoying as fuck start of a feeble thing in her she felt no control over, but Bella didn't have much more time to dwell on it. Barely a minute later, the Russian's eyes started fluttering, she mumbled and moaned a bit as Bella watched besides her and waited patiently for her to regain full consciousness.

The blond looked around, trying to regain her bearings and focus on the wall in front of her, before fixing her confused stare on Bella.

"Ya sebya nekhorosho chuvstvuyu-" she mumbled agitatedly, shaking her head from side to side.

"Whoa, slow down a minute, princess. You fell, you're in the US compound," she answered as she pointed to the team sweater she was wearing with the US flag on it.

Apparently realizing the predicament she was in, the Russian sighed and, to Bella's astonishment, softly uttered- in full blown, albeit heavily accented, proper English; "why am I here?"


	5. Chapter 5

**From Russia With Love**

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say.****** Enjoy & thanks for reading. **

**Special thanks to those who put my story on alert/favorite and to my reviewers. I'm ****amazed**** every time I get an alert on my phone! I appreciate your support, just as much as I like hearing your take on the plot and any criticism or comment you might have. **

**koolawantxox4u – **You were the first one to review this chapter and to guess correctly (and enthusiastically I might add)about our little Rosalie's English skills! Thanks for your review. There, sooner than the last one! Tell me what you think ;)

**lurryforever – **I try to update as soon as I can, i.e. as soon as I finish a chapter but sometimes I might get side tracked by life and the usual every day bullshit. So far it's more about my schedule than inspiration...so I'll try to post as often as possible. I'm not, sorry but thanks for the support!

**LeslieAtwood – **lol yes she does, with that sexy Russian accent to boot!

**Juiny24-L.L.L - *** bows in thanks * Voila!

**Shelley421 – **Thank you so much! Hopefully, this will keep you satisfied...for now :P

**setchan-1995 – **Nicely guessed! Yeah, it would have been tricky. When I first thought about writing this little story, I tried many different titles until the inspiration struck...So you won't get any argument from me there!

**alana94xx – **Thanks! I'm so glad you're still with me. Things will start to unfold slowly ;)

**BellaFan – **Yes she does! Finally. Yeah, how will they ever get out of that one? You'll find out in this chapter, don't forget the Games have not opened yet, so the media might still be getting there, just sayin'...Yeah, I'm a fucking tease lol :)

**Niqo – **Ah ah...I'm not gonna get away from that one, am I?

**stay88frosty – **Welcome on board! Glad you gave my little story a try, I hope you like this chapter just as much and you keep coming back for more :)

**Kara-24 – **Thanks, once again, if anything is missing, I blame the translator ;) I got the bit about the schools and the one about the sex ed, duly noted, just not the next one, sorry. I'm sure Russian kids, much like their US counterparts are curious, and they are perhaps more objective than adults weighed down by history lol

Thank you, I appreciate your perspective as well.

Yeah, you have old souls. Passionate people as well, that should come up once or twice sometimes in the future. You missed them, they made a brief appearance, but will probably be seen again in this story, yeah that's a safe bet.

**[chapter 5 – Set the fox among the chickens. ]**

Dismissing her initial shock, Bella looked at her as she got closer to the bed, both of her hands submissively raised in front of her, to show the Russian she meant no harm.

"You were training at the ice rink-"

"I don't remember," interrupted the woman as she put her palms against her temples and closed her eyes.

Bella briefly touched her arm, "it's alright, I'm sure it's only temporary," she reassured softly.

"How do you know?" Asked the other woman, boring into Bella's eyes, frustration seeping through her stare.

She smiled mischievously and answered, "because it's happened to me before," she calmed down the laugh bubbling inside of her at the Russian's childish behavior.

She sat up, scrunching her eyebrows like a kid about to throw a tantrum, her cheeks getting redder as the second passed, throwing Bella such a heated glare a lesser woman might have cowered. Too bad she was was used to conflict, had to be in her sport. Besides, her skin had been thickened over the years as the only girl in between two teasing brothers. Not to mention anything about all the media attention she received for a few years now.

"You're gonna have to do better than that little glare you got going there, kitten" she told the intimidating little blond on her bed.

"Humph," she snorted,"why did you bring me here?"

Bella sat on a chair besides the bed before answering the million dollar question. "You fell, like I said, and you remained unconscious for a while. I had our medic take a look at you and we brought you here since we couldn't find anyone from the security or the organization."

"You shouldn't have done that. I need to go,"she panicked and started to stand up, only to stumble. She fell back against the bed, barely avoiding the floor as Bella, who had jumped from her seat to help her, guided her into a sitting position.

"Hey, it's OK, relax. My people are trying to get in touch with your team and figure this shit out," She saw the Russian flinch as she tried to comfort her.

"Niet! I need to-"

"What you need, Princess, is to chill the fuck out and settle down. You're in no condition to storm out anywhere," she interrupted the near frantic woman.

If she didn't calm down, Bella was afraid she'd start hyperventilating or something. She was about to speak again when the door opened to reveal Charlie's smiling face. He realized the Russian was finally awake and agitated as soon as he stepped inside. He calmed her, telling the Russian to breathe deeply, in and out.

Then, he explained to her his assessment of her injury while his patient shifted nervously on the bed, her eyes going back and forth between Bella and the medic. Her cornered expression struck the hockey player who was watching the different feelings play out on the woman's face. Embarrassment, anger, frustration, fear and anxiety battling inside her mind. While Bella couldn't say she had the best poker face there ever was, the Slavic beauty seemed to broadcast her emotions on her face for everyone to watch.

"I would advise against any strenuous activities for the next forty- eight hours and you should be monitored tonight. Other than that, you're good to go," Charlie told her before taking his leave. The other woman thanked him, they shook hand and he was on his way.

He closed the door behind him after telling Bella both he and Aro had cleared up what happened with James.

"Thanks, I appreciate that, Doc," she answered truthfully, glad to be spared from the head PR's inquisition for the time being.

"You're welcome, Isabella. He's still on the phone with the Russians reps, but I'm positive he'll be by as soon as he's finished."

Once the man was gone, Bella sat again in her chair, facing the Russian.

"You got a name, Princess?" She teased, trying to play nice.

"Yes. Rosalie. Not Princess," testily replied the bitchy Slavic woman. It was good to know the events of the night had not been sufficient enough to tamper down her shiny personality.

That accent, though, now _that_ was perhaps one of the most sexy things she'd ever had the pleasure of listening to. Her voice was soft, sultry, and she rolled her "R's" in a heavy tone, much like the dramatic inflexion it gave her sentences, a sort of lilt tinting her speech.

Picture that, on on a little feisty blond with a perfectly tight body, with curves to allure people and ensnare them with her stunning features and those full, voluptuous lips of hers, begging one to bend to her will...It sure as hell wasn't her sunny dispositions which drew Bella to her. Although she had to admit, that fierce, feisty little temper she had going on was such a fucking turn on. Easy meant boring to her, and she knew very well that some things in life are worth the fight. It's a complicated equation between risk and worth, leaping or not, to live life to the fullest or forever stay safe but lonely, that people were attempting to solve every day.

She smiled at the spitfire in front of her and couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of their situation. Her brothers were gonna have a field day with that...On the bright side though, it would make for a good Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner story.

"Why you laughing?" Asked the aggravated woman whose name she now knew.

"Because I think it's funny-"

Rosalie interrupted her, snidely retorting, "_Amerikos_ have no good sense of humor."

Bella contracted her abs to the best of her abilities, barely refraining her second bout of laughter at the way she had said it, so matter of fact, as if it was a widely known trait of character every last one of her fellow Americans shared.

"We do, actually, Princess-"

"Rosalie," she corrected in a stern tone and a raise of eyebrows, setting the mood for the glare she leveled at the US player.

"Right. Well, _Rosalie, _humor is-"

"Will you not introduce yourself?" demanded the little ice queen in front of her.

"Sure, I'm Bella," she answered, dialing her sarcasm down for the moment.

She would have elaborated more on this little get to know each other thing they were having, had it not been for James rudely barging in.

"Bella," he began, arching his brow at both athletes' heated stare and sudden silence as he came in.

"What, James? Got a hold of the Russians yet?"

"Of course, they're sending a Miss Anna-"

"Anya", corrected Rosalie.

"-to retrieve her along with bodyguards and one official or two." The man appeared to be on the verge of a pretty serious case of burnout if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by. With his agitated demeanor, he was the picture of your run of the mill PR team leader- worn out and overworked, exhausted yet frighteningly alert; he must have been one of those men who could sleep on and off without trouble, something quite baffling to the sleep loving, over indulging, hockey player.

"Alright," she began as James was fiddling with his phone once more, "let's go then."

As they got down to the ground floor, Bella saw many heads turn their way. While she didn't know personally every single athlete on their delegation, she was familiar with their faces at the very least, and that went both ways. Her fellow team members spotted her, many of them scattered in their rooms after training earlier, but she could see Jessica, Angela and a few others talking animatedly as they played cards on the couch a few feet away. James left them to sit while he waited for the Russian delegation near the door.

"Hey B, who's your friend?" Prompted their goalie, eager to meet a new face. Bella turned to Rosalie, quickly introducing the Russian to a couple of her teammates. She seemed awkward, but then the hockey player supposed she wouldn't be much better off if their roles were reversed.

"Why would you bring the enemy to our home?" Lauren snottily asked, looking down on the Slavic athlete, obviously offended the Russian would dare be here. Angela elbowed their eldest player, cutting off any other acerbic comment she could make.

"Seriously, Lauren? The enemy? Is it 1962 again and no one told me?" Bella responded sharply, glaring at the slutty, ignorant tramp they had to endure in their roster.

"1962? Like, how is that relevant?" The malicious woman wouldn't back down, unknowingly embarrassing herself with her lack of basic historical knowledge. They had talked about President JFK and Khrushchev enough in high school to know a thing or two about the Cuban Missile Crisis, that led the world into thirteen frightening days of anxiety at that time. Hell, academics were never her stronger suit but still, there is a minimum even for her and those who lived to be near the heater, in the furthest corner of the classroom, had perfectly understood. Lauren must have been attending other important matters- i.e. painting her nails or gossiping with her fellow airheads - to miss that lesson.

Angela laughed at their dimwitted teammate while Rosalie couldn't help but glare at the woman who blatantly insulted her.

"You are ignorant, American girl," she barked at Lauren, who squirmed under her heavy stare.

Ah, so the glare was efficient, Bella noted with a smile. Lauren spluttered at the Russian blond before getting up dramatically; pushing past them to get away, draped in her self indignation and anger at the woman she regarded as an intruder in their house.

"Fucking russki bitch," she muttered as she left. Trust the tramp to use the old derogatory term many people employed, back in the day, to refer to the Soviets. Obviously, the stupid cunt did not realize the word wouldn't offend any Russian citizen as it literally meant _Russian_ in their language.

Quite happy to get rid of the annoyingly closed mind of her fellow team player, Bella looked to her side, watching Rosalie's furious stare coupled with a few choice words of her own.

"Zatk`nis, po'shyol 'na hui," were amongst the few she recognized from the dictionary's swear words section.

To the best of her recollection, those literally meant 'shut up, fuck off and fuck you', quite a colorful vocabulary for a prim and proper little figure skater; though she knew that since their very first encounter. Russians were prone to dirty mouths it seemed, or at least that Russian was.

She smirked at the other nation's athlete-a bit proud of her for catching a part, however small, of the language- and watched as she scrutinized the entrance of the compound, presumably waiting for her team to arrive. Bella figured she would know soon enough, there was no fucking way the security agents stationed besides the sliding, double doors, would let anyone they did not recognize, into their home away from the motherland that easily. Besides, those Russian colors were not exactly conspicuous and would probably be spotted from a mile away- if the boys were doing their job right.

Hopefully, both country would keep the bubbling tensions at bay; at least long enough to retrieve their injured skater, and fix all the diplomatic bullshit the encounter had caused in ripple effect.

She was pretty sure there was no diplomatic relationship a few contracts, or empty promises could not mend, if History was to be trusted. Despite any front they might put up publicly, it was common knowledge that both countries had a few shared interests and had maintained their commercial exchanges, even weathering the pressure of the Cold War. Idle threats reduced to meaningless intimidation if one did not follow through.

"Eto piz`dets, right?" She attempted to question the still fuming blond, figuring she would earn a few points to counter the effects of her rude, offensive, fellow player.

"Your accent is not good," was all she got in return from the arrogant Russian, "where did you learn ruski?"

"I didn't, I just picked up some swear words and a bit of basic sentences to get by, that's all," she explained to the woman who regarded her with such a shocked expression in her deep blue eyes that she had to laugh.

"No need to be so surprised, Princess, not all of us are fat, uneducated, junk food lovers-"

"Most-"

"Now who's the prejudiced one?" She cut her off before she could get started on a rant of her own, about Americans and all the stereotypes she could form against her fellow countrymen and herself in her head.

Years of distrust had instilled a deep dislike in each country's citizens. Something that almost run through their veins, that was passed down from generations; full of ancient, biased, preconceived notions each one had for the other- full of contempt and chauvinism, something both countries seemed to have down to a pat, and perhaps the most important thing they had in common.

There was still something ridiculous, profoundly rooted in their collective unconscious, the everlasting belief that the other constituted, perchance, their worst enemy. One would think that, with the world as it was today- globalized, with intricate ties all around the planet- that it was bound to change one day or another. Although so far, no signs pointed towards any ease of the tensions; on the contrary, with the Games a week away from opening, it appeared the opposing visions were liable to awaken with a renewed vigor.

For her part, Bella hoped that someday, at some point, under the right terms for everyone, that they could bridge the gap between their nations. Sure, maybe not today, especially not today. Nothing good would come out of the Ukrainian crisis for the animosity between the two super powers of yesterday.

Visibly deflating, the Russian glared at her but never protested her claims. She seemed content to continue sweeping the entrance with exhausted eyes, eager for her staff to exfiltrate her from the sticky situation she had gotten into unwillingly. Angela, bless her, kept the conversation light and away from any awkward topic, asking the Russian skater what sport she competed in, and other meaningless questions she seemed happy to answer.

It appeared the ice cold Princess could be perfectly civil and well-mannered when she wanted to. Obviously she'd rather make nice with her teammate than her, but that was fine with Bella. Using the lack of attention on her, she watched the Russian animatedly speaking about her sport, explaining to their interested goalie how the competition would unfold and which countries had her biggest contenders.

"But I will win," Rosalie was the picture of poise and strength, proclaiming the words as a prophecy of sorts, something she was intimately convinced to be the truth. She knew the feeling, doubt was allowed and healthy; but there was a point in one's career where athletes had to acquire a sane amount of self worth, confidence, that they would prevail, whether it be due to their work or raw talent, often a combination of both.

"I'm sure you will," replied quite diplomatically her longtime friend. Ever the mediator in their team, she would have made a great politician, but was probably too soft-hearted to be at Frank Underwood's level of machiavelism.

As both women bantered together, she noticed a commotion in her peripheral vision and slightly shifted to her left, to have a better angle and confirm her suspicions that the Russians might have approached the US security check point. Squinting her eyes, she saw their agents block the Russian staff from the doors; executing custom surface body searches, on each member of the delegation, mandated to retrieve their wounded athlete.

They fussed a bit longer- probably contacting their superiors through their communication devices, awaiting due approval- prior to letting the Russians go any further.

She cleared her throat and nudged the Russian who still stood by her side, much less anxious about being behind enemy lines after a cordial chat with Angela.

"Your team is here," she told the foreign woman, pointing towards the buff bodyguards, along with the two unknown bald men accompanying a lithe, older, lady.

All of them were decked out from head to toe in their national colors, flags proudly displayed for every hostile US player to sneer at, a petty provocation she found unnecessary but inconsistent. Besides, if she'd have to play Devil's advocate; she might argue that, perhaps, they had rushed there without any time to spare for a change of outfits, to rescue their star skater from the corrupting crutches of the West.

Nevertheless, the small delegation was attracting as much attention in their compound as a celebrity without panties would on any given day back home. Some of her fellow Americans were furiously scoffing at the brazen Russians breaching their territory, other were heckling them as they made their way towards their wayward athlete, while the rest of them acted as their audience.

The whole atmosphere seemed surreal to rational people such as Bella, a silent observer of the battle unfolding in front of her very own eyes, as the Russians sneered in return, not to be outdone in their contempt by mere _Amerikos. _One could feel the mutual hatred seeping through every pore of each participant in the childish war of insults and taunts. There stood the good old blocs, Westerners against the East, Russia resisting the Occidental pull it had so often accused the USA of trying to exert on the world. It was all there, in their looks, the way they held themselves, clearly the disgust was mutual.

There was a kind of morbid fascination forbidding anyone to avert their eyes from the train wreck waiting to happen. James ran to the Russian officials, greeting them courteously before escorting them to their athlete. Assessing her quickly, they determined she would escape her American nightmare relatively unscathed before they proceeded to a conference room not far from the break room adjoining the ground floor's main area.

She surmised years of distrust, tensions and plain, basic and simple hate would need a bit more than a fortuitous encounter to be overcome. Rome was not built in a day, and it became evident after years that neither would repairing their relationship; the construction would need solid foundation, a bit of risk taking thrown with charismatic leaders and minds open to the possibility of change, as well as the will and faith necessary to such an ambitious diplomatic agenda. Needless to say such groundbreaking progress wasn't on the menu today, if the latent wariness between both countries representatives was anything to go by.

It felt like a reenactment of a Cold War round table, with Russians and Americans sitting opposite each other in a terse silence, observing the enemy up close for once, judging each other and gauging their rival's next move.

The tense meeting did not last more than the necessary time, no civilities were exchanged beyond the initial greetings, straight to business for both nations. She explained what happened, their official translator giving the abridged version of her account, Rosalie interjecting in her own language whenever she felt was useful, until their PR reps came to terms with an agreement regarding the communication they would put in place, if any journalist got a hold of the incident and came sniffing around their teams.

Not a global _detente _yet, but still a small step in the right direction.

Once both parties were fully satisfied with the terms of their negotiations, they parted ways; the Russians escorted back outside by their agents and both athletes barely acknowledging each other, covertly nodding to each other while their staff remained none the wiser. Bella felt a sense of _d__e__j__a__ vu, _as she watched the Russian blond's retreating back through the compound's glass windows; before going back to her room to rest.


	6. Chapter 6

**From Russia With Love**

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say.****** Enjoy & thanks for reading. **

**Special thanks to those who put my story on alert/favorite and to my reviewers. ****Holy ****shit****, ****readers****! 50 reviews, ****40**** favs and 9****6**** alerts for my little story ****in two weeks****...I'm amazed you like it! ****I appreciate your support, just as much as I like hearing your take on the plot and any criticism or comment you might have. **

**LeslieAtwood – **Thanks. Ah...don't even get me started on that either lol

**Tigerforce – **Thank you!

**Kara-24 – **I must admit, I didn't catch a lot of that :) We all think our own countries are the best, that's pretty normal I'd say. What do you hope? Here you go. Yeah, I've seen that polemic about doping. It's a part of competition as well, unfortunately.

**Niqo – **I shall! I tried to lock her somewhere but she's resourceful...must have sucked off the janitor to get out or something :D

**Jay aka Jordan – **Thanks, I'm glad you like it! I hear another 'Oh Rose' coming at the end of this chapter lol. Yes, I think so too. They will be back, don't worry.

**BellaFan – **Thank you so much, I try to be as accurate as possible, because history and those tensions are such a big part of this story. Of course sometimes I will stretch the truth in some parts or assimilate other facts perhaps to fit the plot, because it's still fiction obviously...but that shouldn't happen too much. And when it occurs, it should only affect recent history.

I'm exploring this part a bit more in this chapter, how tensions are viewed in a different light according to which side you are on.

**tlc125** – Exactly my thoughts! It does really compromise a lot of things from getting done. And resentment, of course, is quite hard to overcome. I am not yet through with politics or history, as you'll see in this chapter.

Yes, she's a sweetheart, much more mellow than Bella or Rosalie. Thank you for your review, I look forward to hearing what you thought about this one.

**[chapter 6 – Holy Fucking Straight Women!]**

The next day, Bella woke up to the blaring music of her phone. She took a second to calm down her pounding heart and breathe, while she reached across the bed to get her phone off the bedside table.

She missed the call, not a surprise since her fuzzy brain couldn't get her limbs to cooperate fast enough in the dark. Checking for missed calls, she saw her brother had been the one to call; the moron must have forgotten about the different time zones they were currently in.

Seeing 4:30 flashing on her screen, she tried to clear her sleep fogged brain as best as she could, slowly coming to her senses while she listened to the message he left her, hearing her brother's and Sam's voices, telling her to check her mails, pick up a local newspaper or better yet, check out the US newspapers online.

She called them back, already awake anyway, and their vocal message had spiked her curiosity.

"Holy shit B," curse Emmett as he picked up, "have you seen it?"

"It's 4:30 in the morning here, asshole," she answered the booming voice on the line.

"Fuck, the different time zones, right?"

"You're so smart, bro, Mom would be proud-" she joked back to the moron she called her little brother.

"Shit, sorry," he cut her off as she heard some shuffling on his end.

"You're never going to believe what Putin said on TV," yelled Sam through the phone not a minute later.

Apparently, Vladimir Putin had seen fit to grace the media with his presence earlier this morning, and couldn't refrain the homophobic slur that came with it. Asked by a local reporter to address the issues of gay rights, which shocked so many people in countries throughout the world; Putin had said that _gays were more than welcome to come to Russia, provided they leave the children alone_. His verbatim statement almost a plea, imploring the sick, perverted people who engaged in such immoral behavior.

_Welcome to the world according to Vladimir..._Much like the controversy generated by the so called anti gay propaganda bill, which had infuriated LGBT associations and supporters worldwide-with celebrities campaigning for their fellow citizens to boycott Russian products such as Vodka; various public figures (gay or straight) in different part of the world were still striving for a pure and simple snub of the Sochi Games, now a week before the Opening Ceremony. Never one to care about the world's leaders opinions, President Putin's latest statement was sure to start another wave of Occidental indignation.

"Can you believe it?" Asked her brother after giving her a summary of the intervention made by the Russian President, still in complete shock and disbelief.

Just like many citizens of Western countries, he had watched this surreal moment where the President of the largest country in the world, spewed bullshit in a press conference, fully aware of the repercussions his intervention would have. He knew, of course he knew it would be another controversial sentence to add to his never ending rap sheet of offending comments.

Truth is, Putin held no regard whatsoever for the westerners and their politicians opinion, one might even point out that not only the man did not care, but he despised them- those leaders he saw as unnecessary reminders of the fall his country had been precipitated into, worthless remnants of a past he wished to erase.

Still shell shocked, Emmett and Sam had forgotten all about trivial things like times zones to call her. Bella had a very close relationship with both her siblings, loved one as much as the other and she shared different things with them. Their sexual preference was something Emmett and her had in common, but their older brother had always been there for them. He made it his mission in life to protect them against everyone, though he sometimes went overboard.

Her younger brother and his lover had been her most fervent supporters, in the debate inside her family, over whether she should come out or not to the public. Edward had been adamant it was a mistake, arguing that hockey was a man's world; and while female hockey attracted a younger crowd as well, she could not afford to offend people by putting her sexuality out there- for everyone to know and judge. Not if she had any ambition of crossing the bridge over to the NHL one day.

Her little brother and his partner had disagreed, arguing that hiding was ridiculous and she shouldn't have to feel ashamed of anything. Furthermore, it would be pointless- with all the media attention she had started to receive, it was only a matter of time before someone snapped a picture of Bella in a heated lip-lock or something, with a woman, when she would least expect it.

"Of course," she answered her brother's rhetorical question.

"He's a narrow minded piece of shit," interjected Sam, backing up the feeling they all had.

"Why are you surprised, Sam? It's not any different than the shit he's said before," she observed sleepily, "hell, we should be amazed he waited this long to say something!"

She wasn't that shocked when she heard the comments he had made at his press conference via her brother. As expected, the man wouldn't refrain his instincts to provoke, much less infuriate the US and its allies with his vision of society.

Obviously, there was no gay people in Russia. They just didn't swing that way. No, they were good, religious people who abide by God's words and His rules, and it wasn't the Patriarch of Moscow who would tell anyone otherwise.

A mistake US and Europeans alike often made regarding Putin, was thinking he would not go for it. That he would stop before crossing an imaginary line drawn by those he loathed. This analysis was so far from the truth, it was almost funny, the man was ex KGB for God's sake; he had even acted as the director of the FSB- its rightful heir.

All things considered, Bella thought there was no telling what he wouldn't do to regain his country's prominent place in the world. The man had been a front row spectator, silent and powerless, to the great downfall of the grand empire that had been the USSR. Watching as Russia slowly lost any say in the world order and was callously regarded as an inferior, a kind of embarrassing third cousin one never valued- neither for himself nor its input on anything.

"Maybe," retorted her brother's lover, pulling her back to the present.

"Are you gonna say something, Bella?" Emmett asked, "you should. And if you don't-"

"I will," she cut him off before he could go on a rant. As a law student, he could make grand speeches like nobody else- he didn't need his diploma for eloquence, and he was a fierce advocate of gay rights already.

"Good," he replied, "gotta put the motherfucker back in his place!"

Viewed from the USA- and her brother was no exception- the man was a cold blooded bastard who knew no bounds, someone who would go to great lengths to restore its country's forefront standard in geopolitics- by _any_ means necessary. Without a care for the rights of those he stepped on, as he held his country in a vice grip- laying his pawns in strategic places around the Russian power while he kept the nationalist fire alive.

The man tended to scare its opponents, with his expressionless face, that ever present sardonic twitch in his mouth, to remind his enemies of the contempt he held for them. There was no mistaking his stiff posture, tightly controlled mannerism, the man was ruthless- a scarecrow reminding every American that they never were really that far away from a heated blow up with their old foe, always toeing a thin line between frosty relationships and simply cutting them off altogether.

It happened a few times in the past since the partition of the world in two blocs had been put to rest in 1991, officially buried by the Belavezha Accord between Russia, Ukraine and Belarus. Unsurprisingly, its legal basis had been contested by Gorbachev, arguing that those who signed the agreement were not fit to represent the USSR.

Less than twenty days later, on Christmas Eve, it was definitely backed by his televised resignation as the President of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, and the subsequent lowering of the USSR flag. He had been prompted to action by the Alma-Ata Protocol, signed by 11 of the 12 remaining soviet republics, removing any doubt about legal technicalities.

Nowadays, in the classrooms of every high school throughout the country, young Americans were told that it was a great victory for the free world, that it would get better from now on, with the world restored to its rightful order etc- depending on which teacher one had, and the bias they infused to their lessons.

However, reality was never that simple, and the first thing Bella could remember thinking when they finished the chapter, was how it must have felt for Russians, to be that humiliated in front of the whole world. What she forebode by instinct was that there lied the core of their problems.

For many Russians at that time, the end of the USSR was a tragedy- the end of a great era. It didn't help that people tended to over simplify things and reduce a whole country to a fraction of their history, foregoing its best parts entirely, or the many cultural aspects that made it one of the world's most prolific provider of classics in Literature, not to mention anything about the huge contribution Russians had made to the Arts in general.

No wonder Russians were so offended when they had hundreds of glorious years and suddenly were dethroned from their pedestal, schooled by such a young country as the United States. Putin was amongst those who felt forever struck in their dignity, humiliated deep down inside their proud souls by a country who viewed them as half of what they truly were. Treating them like pariahs, nothing more than losers, shunned from the world by their most formidable foe. Bella presumed they would have found the pill hard to swallow as well, if they had put themselves in their shoes for a second.

Putin bid his time, lying in wait as a lion, waiting for a prey to pounce on when watchful eyes wouldn't be trained on his tail. Ready to take the first occasion that would present itself to dominate once more and reestablish the prestige of the past, the Great Russian Empire. If not in territory, then at least in term of public perception.

Being on Russian land, the hockey player felt compelled to think about those issues and she knew humiliated, wounded men who felt they had nothing more to lose nor fear were the most dangerous species.

She supposed the world would realize that sooner or later, and she wouldn't be surprised in any way if that epiphany came simultaneously to the climax of the last days tensions.

She talked a bit more with her brother and his lover, elaborating her answer with them and the frequent input of her personal PR team through phone calls and texts. She told them how much she appreciated their heads up on the issue, and logged on various social media to let the world know what she thought about the Russian President's latest tirade. In a few words, she indicated her position on the subject, as always, never mincing her words. She kept it short and sarcastic but light, not wanting to pour oil on the fire yet still be heard.

She supposed not every Russian out there felt the same way, most of them were probably not the extreme nationalists some right wing US media wanted to portray, much like there wasn't only tolerant people in the USA.

She had seen plenty of anti gay people on US soil, had been the object of death threats after her coming out, and encountered those who wanted to take the gay out of her from time to time. She wouldn't blame her whole country for those ignorant bastards, there would always be assholes on every part of the world no matter the country or its people.

So, the little autocrat could slur against gays as much as he wanted, it would only earn him the anger of the _free world_ he loved to vilify and their disdain. Her posts were quickly retweed, liked and gained all the attention she was expecting when she decided she would never let herself be gagged- not even when she was representing her country in the Games.

Of course, she wanted to compete, it had been the dream of her life ever since she could remember, but that did not meant that she had to silence herself and comply with every fucking thing that happened during the event and every shitty parallel he found fit to draw.

Homosexuals and pedophilia- really Vlad?!- that was so last century of him. Sadly she had come to realize ever since she came out that homophobia was still alive and well, despite the relatively easy ride she had up until her public speech on the issue. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, as tragic as it is, there remained many persistent stereotypes and misconception about gay people. Was it necessary to remind people that no, homosexuality is not synonym for sexual deviants, much less pedophiles? One would think that particular idiocy would be more associated with priests than gays but hey, never mind the fact that pedophiles had nothing to do with homosexuality, gay, they were just sick people who held an unhealthy desire for children- no, by all means, one should always put everyone in the same boat, let's lump it all up together and call it gay.

Needless to say James wasn't thrilled with her, for less than a half hour after she had put her little rant online, the man was calling her to yell at the hockey player some more. He was livid, angered that she would go over his head, reach out to her own people and react on the record like that- without his previous approval- and stray so much from their global communication strategy.

It had been decided by the big wigs in Washington that they would adopt a low profile and keep their communication to a minimum, to avoid infuriating the host country and try to not worsen a situation already almost explosive with the state of neighboring Ukraine.

The USA had wholeheartedly supported the protesters in Maidan since the first sign of trouble. Most of her fellow Americans were perhaps not aware that their country was putting all its weight in a transition towards the European Union ever since 2004. Back then, the US funneled money through various NGO, much like it had back in the day post World War II, to accelerate the creation of the UE.

Money meant power, and her country knew that very well, but power was also found in knowledge, regrouping countries to bar another and such diplomatic maneuvers. Nothing new under the sun, Washington wanted to isolate Russia while the Slavic country aimed towards its expansion. It was said that the Americans had even chosen the orange color that protesters would wear and brandish as a token of freedom and change later on. Meanwhile, Russia was trying to motivate every dominion it still held- if not in reality, very much so backstage.

There was a whole world behind the world, and things or events most people would never hear about regarding history, with back channeling and diplomatic efforts made covertly. It required a whole lot of scheming, great intelligence and carefully planned, military strategies Sun Tzu would have been proud of.

Sometimes, people could forget that the core principle of diplomacy is to avoid wars, true, yet very much a waging war itself. Bargains were taken; risks and worth evaluated; sometimes leaders would get angry publicly and poke at the other's loss of this or that, or create the context necessary to pressure them into pursuing the path they preferred.

Angry over the James debacle, the threats he made and his stance on her public slam of Putin's anti gay slur, Bella was walking through the alleys of the Olympian village. It was weird to see a crowd with almost no one but athletes. Some of them were trailed by security details like her while others were just strolling without a care in the world, going from one house to the other, getting food here and there and just sitting around with their team members; seemingly less inclined to mix together than it had been the case in Vancouver.

According to the Olympics veterans she had on her team, the previous edition had been such a success it would be hard to top. Back in 2010, it had been a joyful mix of nations blending together to meet, share and just paint the town red while they were in and out of competition. By all means, she had been told the Canadian Games were a crazy succession of international parties held successively in the different nation houses. Such a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere in Sochi.

She was deep in thought, walking along lazily, when she noticed a familiar face further away. Rosalie was leaning against a wall, eating an apple as two security guards were flanking her. She drew quite a crowd, people were attempting to squeeze past the vigilance of her muscles to speak with her and get a minute or two of her time.

If Aro was right, it was probable that the Russian figure skater was used to it, much like herself back home. Attention meant you did something right in your sport she supposed, otherwise no one would bother writing about athletes, much less vie for their attention.

As she came up close to the Slavic woman, the two gorillas barred her path, forbidding her to reach their charge. Her agent stiffened, protectively putting himself closer to the hockey player. The blond turned towards Bella, alerted to her presence by her guards sudden change in demeanor as they walked the streets.

"Vse v poryadke, vy mozhete pozvolit' yey do kontsa. Ya znayu yeye," Rosalie interfered, barking at her guardians.

It did nothing to quell the lust brewing deep inside Bella, though she was determined to ignore her baser instincts. She prided herself in her control over her emotions, and wasn't about to get carried away just because the woman was gorgeous.

The Russian gorillas let their athlete through after some kind of argument she understood nothing about, allowing the woman to approach Bella.

"Hello," Rosalie began as she joined her.

"Hi, feeling any better?" Bella asked as she checked the blond out, finding nothing but a prim and proper woman facing her- unfazed by her little accident the night before.

"Da, da. Moy vrach podtverdil diagnoz vash sdelal. YA poluchil skanirovaniye mozga prosto chtoby byt' uverennym, no ne bylo nichego nenormal'nogo, tak chto ya byl ochishchen-"

"You can hold it right there, Princess, I have no fucking clue whatsoever what you just told me," she cut her off, already lost in translation.

It wasn't the few curse words that she had learned, nor the basic- "I'm lost" or "Where is the restroom"- sentences, ready made for eager tourists that she had picked up, which would help her understand what Rosalie just fired off. Alas, she had tried but there was nothing substantial that stuck, despite her little performance for the Russian's benefit the night before.

"I don't understand. You speak ruski yesterday," while the blond made a much better linguist than her, she mixed up some tenses and words it seemed.

Fuck her life. That accent and her small mistakes made her even more attractive, what with the whole sexy foreigner thing no one would be able to resist.

"Huh...About that," she said, embarrassed to be caught trying to show off, "I might have slightly overstated my skills yesterday-"

"You lied?"

"Not exactly, Princess, it's more of a...an exaggeration?" Jesus, she was digging herself deeper and deeper into the hole in all evidence.

"Do not take me as fool-" she was getting red in her face and it was turning into their first meeting all over again.

"You're a drama queen, Miss Rosalie," Bella winked, trying to defuse the situation she had jumped into with both feet.

"What is the meaning of this?" Quipped the Russian, scrunching her face in confusion.

"It means you like being overly dramatic, you're prone to blow things out of proportion, you know?" It was hard to give to someone a definition of an idiom she had been familiar with for so long. She struggled a bit to find the right words into her head, but attempted to clear Rosalie's puzzlement to the best of her abilities.

"Ah. I see," she said, looking a bit cross.

"I was just teasing you," Bella winked at her. Maybe she needed more people in her life to get her to relax, she thought as she watched the woman.

"Why?" Rosalie retorted, her sapphire eyes frowning at the US player.

Jesus, what sort of question was that? _Why did people tease each other?_ That was a subject for a philosophy exam, with eager pupils one would give two hours to compose an essay on that question...Why did humans do what they do? Because of that never ending need to connect and interact perhaps? Because it was nice? To flirt? Because of their biological mating imperative? To make people smile? How the hell would Bella know?

She copped out of answering with a question of her own, half replying and half asking, "because it's what people do?"

Fuck, she wasn't equipped to deal with that shit. There was an inquisitive four year old inside the figure skater apparently, and she felt like a parent whose child always asks "why". Now she understood her brother better when he bitched about his kids wearing him out with their questions...

She wanted to have kids one day, maybe, it was an hypothesis she couldn't completely eliminate if the timing was right and she found the right partner, someone to take the plunge with.

Besides, as a lesbian, if she wanted to be a Mom, she would have to go through adoption or sperm donors; and she did not relish the idea of growing a child inside her womb- no matter how many times her mom and sister-in-law had told her that having children was the most extraordinary experience of their lives. Perhaps it just was not for her. Some people never have kids yet they are perfectly happy about it. As a woman, she received some reminders of her biological imperative from time to time, mostly from the women in her family.

As if there was a whole underground league of women living by a secret code of some kind, vowing to pass the word along and tell every female out there about birthing through their stories- no, she did not want to hear the gory details of her mom's episiotomy, nor her aunt's thirty four hours labor, or the strange delivery of the placenta and what not. That could have make sense ages ago, for women to pass knowledge to one another through word of mouth but come on, in the twenty-first century, when the day came and she wanted to know with accurate precision what would happen to her poor vagina, she could look it up online for fuck's sake!

Rosalie jolted Bella from her reverie when she let out a frustrated little noise, throwing her hands in the air and staring intently at the hockey player.

"You are annoying," was the snappy comeback she gave her.

"OK, then. Here I was thinking you were about to flirt with me. What a pity, Princess. Really, I'm disappointed," Bella retorted, taking a step towards the baffled woman.

"What? No! I will do not such thing." She stepped back, her security details warily looking at her while Bella took another step forward, much closer to the Russian.

"Oh no?" She smirked at the blush overtaking the Russian's cheeks. The woman spluttered again while Bella pushed her luck and came closer again, hoping to befuddle the blond some more as she stood toe to toe with her. "Why not, Princess?"

She was satisfied as she watched Rosalie process the words and the lack of space between them, her eyes widening with shock. The splotches of pink hue on her face turned scarlet, her head swiftly turning to look at her security guards, before gazing again in Bella's deep brown eyes.

"Because I am not-I...And you are-" she lowered her voice, that panicked look featured prominently on her face once more,"I...I am not..." To Bella's dismay, her fierce Russian had disappeared to let an almost shy, scared woman take over. "I am not like you," she said softly, her voice almost inaudible.

"Alright, look, I'm sorry I didn't mean-"

"No. I need to go now," she spoke, cutting off the apology she was about to hear from the US player.

"Poydem, rebyata!" Rosalie snapped to her guards,turning on her heels to leave without a second glance at Bella. Her bodyguards by her side, she walked away from her, getting as far as possible from the US player in a record time.

Bella had watched the Russian's departing back one too many times these days to her liking, and made a split decision; she took off running to chase Rosalie. Thankful for her physical condition, she raced after the blond through the alley, dodging athletes, tables and chairs, catching up with her in three minutes top.

"Hey, wait," she grabbed Rosalie's arm from behind. She never saw her guards coming, too intent on her mission to apologize- now that she got her hands on her runaway Russian. The men jumped her, immobilizing her to the ground as they dragged her down; restraining her arms behind her back as they yelled at her, probably barking in Russian to stay still or something along those lines.

"Perestan'! Otpusti yeye, ya skazal vam, ya yeye znayu. Otpusti yeye!" Rosalie was screaming furiously at them. There was the stone cold bitch she had first met, with her feisty temper and authoritarian, condescending tone.

"Hum, guys? I'd like to get out of this alive, if possible. Maybe keep my body intact, if you don't mind?" Bella squeaked under the weight of the men keeping her to the ground.

The three of them turned to her with matching glares on their faces. Rosalie softened a bit as she watched her squirm beneath her muscles, and there was a slight beginning of a smirk right at the corner of her lips.

Her own security detail had been distracted, only catching up with Bella as the men let her up, returning to their initial position, flanking their athlete while they stared her down- definitely not impressed by her wiggling-on-the-ground skills. She knew self defense tactics, but had nothing in store for situations where one gets pinned down by burly men unfortunately.

Her agent, who had not anticipated her sudden take off to pursue the Russian, was furious with Rosalie's men, putting himself between Bella and the Slavic bodyguards, agitatedly cursing at them and alternatively yelling at Bella. He calmed down once he was reassured by his athlete that she wasn't harmed, Rosalie even apologizing on behalf of her brutish security, along with Bella halfheartedly explaining that she did sneak up on them. Everyone took a step back, taking the tensions down a notch and observing each other.

"Can we talk?" Bella asked the other athlete, trying to ignore the attention their little commotion had garnered.

"I don't have the time."

"Come on, we can have coffee or something?" She tried again, not wanting to let the little blond temptress get away without clearing the air between them. Besides, she wanted to know more about the woman. She had that nagging once more, forcing her to overplay her hand with the Russian, lest she started running away from her again.

"Why? We have nothing to talk about," Rosalie responded.

"Oh come on, Princess, have coffee with me. That's it. We can talk-"

"What about?" She interrupted the smirking American with a raise of her perfectly sculpted eyebrows.

"I want to apologize-" Bella tried softly, only to be cut off again.

"You did already."

"OK, then have coffee with me to talk about the weather, about yourself or shit, just to tell me about Russia. I don't know. To get to know each other, Princess, show some hospitality for fuck's sake," Bella said with conviction as she grinned to the baffled blond.

"First, you swear too much. And I don't want you to think-"

"Relax, Rosalie, it's just coffee."

"If I say yes, will you leave me alone?"

"Sure, for now," Bella replied as she smiled to the frustrated woman in front of her.

Rosalie informed her bodyguards they would be making a pit stop to have coffee with the US player, they argued a bit in hushed tones besides Bella, but seemed to settle down their difference as the blond came back next to her. Her own detail wasn't happy about it, but after expressing his opinion on the matter, he took his position near his charge and remained concentrated on his job, to avoid any more mishap like earlier.

They walked in silence the few meters separating them from the coffee shop in the middle of the Olympian village, both athletes side by side as the Russian muscles were respectively a step ahead and one behind them, encircling them as they made their way through the crowd, Bella's agent watching her back, a step beside her.

They entered the shop and took a seat, one of Rosalie's bodyguards taking their order while the remaining Russian and the American flanked their table to block them from prying eyes.

"Look, I want to apologize," Bella started, "I didn't mean anything, it was just a joke."

"I'm not used to- I mean I don't meet a lot of..." she hesitated before saying "lesbiyanka."

Bella needed no translation to understand the word, "so, I'm like a wild, extinct species you've never met before?" She laughed at the embarrassed woman in front of her.

"I don't go out a lot," she started and Bella thought yeah, you could say that. "And in Russia, it is not like America," defended Rosalie at the confusion displayed on the hockey player's face.

"Hey, it's OK, I get it," she comforted, still a bit dumbfounded at the woman's admission. It was a gut-wrenching reminder that while she had the freedom to love and fuck whomever she wanted in -relative- indifference back home, it certainly was not the case everywhere.

The conversation flowed more easily between the two athletes after that. Rosalie started to open up a bit to Bella as they talked about the Games, their hopes and their countries for ten minutes or so. It seemed to be going really well- as far as non first dates went, Bella figured.

The blond was smiling and appeared to relax while they spoke, until Bella let herself get carried away and tucked a strand of hair behind Rosalie's ear as she flirted with her. Rookie mistake, never push more than you get at first, but her hand had reacted impulsively without her conscious agreement, lulled into a false sense of security and forgetting for a moment that this wasn't a date.

"What are you doing?" Asked the horrified Russian, with wide eyes, and Bella knew their moment was over.

Not a second later, her bodyguard received a phone call and the blond skater tensed further the minute he answered, her whole body stiffening as he spoke to the person on the line and took some sneak peeks at his charge.

Bella tried to get them back on a safer path, even apologizing for her overstepping gesture, to no avail. As soon as her bodyguard hung up, he shouted something in Russian to his colleague, who sprang up to his feet. She put her hand on Rosalie's arm, trying to get her attention back and she did, but she recoiled from her touch. Her little temptress clamped her mouth shut, made up some bullshit excuse about training and left in a hurry.

Fully aware that she had pushed too much and too soon, but also that the Russian was her little Miss pipedream fantasy, Bella was determined to put her silly crush on the beautiful Rosalie to rest. There was no point for her to lust over an unattainable wonder woman, no matter how much Rosalie could turn her on.

'Been there, done that,' she regretted- no sense in making the same mistake twice. Holy fucking straight women might be the holy grail for some lesbians, but this one wasn't planning on wasting her time on them anymore.


	7. Chapter 7

**From Russia With Love**

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say.****** Enjoy & thanks for reading. **

**Special thanks to those who put my story on alert/favorite and to my reviewers. ****I'm ****still very much ****amazed you like it! ****I appreciate your support, just as much as I like hearing your take on the plot and any criticism or comment you might have. **

**LeslieAtwood – **Yes, it was necessary, she will continue to do so- at her pace, though sometimes her hand might be forced :)

Ah ah, thanks, I can't say I'm not glad...I won't tell if you don't ;)

**Kara-24 – **My sole reviewer in Russian is still here, that's great! I didn't get the bit about Alice, the author and the best friend. Do you want to know why I changed it? If so, that's because it fit my story better, sorry if it pisses off the purist in you lol I know some people hate it when a story deviates from the canon, but as you see, this one will stray a lot :) And I'll confess to being sometimes a bit annoyed by Alice as Bella's pushy best friend and all around resident fashion expert. Sorry, I know she's loved by many readers- though she will be back in this story, just not in this capacity. I'm happy you're still on board, buckle up because it won't be an easy ride.

**Tigerforce – **Thank you, glad to see you've stuck with this little Olympics story so far!

**Guest – **Thanks! Hopefully I won't disappoint, I have many things in store for our resident athletes, all in due time...let me know what you thought about this one :)

**Jay aka Jordan – **She got carried away, and to her defense, it happens to the best of us :) True, the grass is always greener on the other side, but the context is tough...

**koolawantxox4u – **Thanks, I try :) Ah ah, does she now? ;) You'll see if your instincts are right in this one...And no, I won't spoil you right at the start with this A/N lol

**FaberryBRA – **Hi there :D

**tlc125 – **Wow, thanks! You're right of course, certainly not out in the open, even if she was...

It is, I'm trying to make it as realistic as can be, and obviously in real life it would be a tough spot to be in, what with the lingering tensions and all...So, if you're feeling a bit sad for them, I'm glad because it means it's coming along as I imagined; and the characters make you feel something- best compliment you could probably give me! Hopefully it won't be too cliche, but the line is thin sometimes, and as much as I want their story to feel real, love is corny from time to time. Tell me what you thought about this chapter, with any hope and if the words cooperate with my mind, it might just get better...or not, and don't be too harsh on me :)

**[chapter ****7**** – ****Russkiy put'** **]**

Less than two hours later, James came running towards Bella, with their coach and Angela hot on his heels.

"Bella," he screamed from down the hallway, "what the fuck did you do?"

"What do you mean?" She retorted innocently to the man dashing at her with a printed paper in his right hand; furiously jerking it back and forth as his chest heaved with short breaths.

"Fucking Christ, Bella! It's all over the Internet! It's going to be front page tomorrow. Front page!" He exclaimed again, now standing his ground in front of her, shaking said piece of paper in her face. He vociferated "look at that," as he pointed at random to the different set of characters that constituted a word, or perhaps a sentence in the Russian language on the website printout.

There was a US flag in the background of the page, alongside a prominent Russian one above a picture of Bella on the ground, restrained by Rosalie's security. The figure skater stood alert as she observed the scene, annoyed and incredulous at the same time. The picture was worse for Bella, she looked ridiculous with her face contorted in a mix of non photogenic surprise and hurt. Bold, red Cyrillic letters were captioned on her forehead with an exclamation point and a legend underneath.

She had a hunch that those words were not flattering for her; and the apprehensive look in Angela's eyes, or the anger she could clearly sense radiating from her coach, who hadn't said a word yet, were all she needed to confirm her suspicions.

"Holy shit-" she yelled, reaching for the offending paper, tearing it out of James' grasp for her examination.

"Damn right, holy shit!" Interjected Jacob, while James cut her off.

"Do you know what it means?"

Bella gave him a look, "obviously no, James, so why don't you enlighten me?"

"It reads '_Team security forced to backcheck g__a__y __US __stalker__'_. And that's just the headline, Bella!" James translated for her, "the article is full of allegations about how you've supposedly harassed her since you've landed here. They even quote a fucking anonymous source as their so called witness of your pathetic pursuit. And in case you're wondering, yes their closing point portrays you as a case in point of gay behavior," he finished in a heavy tone, appalled at her actions.

"For Christ's sake, Bella," her coach groaned, "what happened?"

"I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation, right Bella? They're jumping to conclusions," Angela tried to calm the men down without much success.

She had their full attention as they focused on her, eagerly awaiting her side of the story. She didn't know what to say, she had not really thought this through when she had taken off after the Russian blond. She had listened to her instincts, to that inkling she had to find out more about the woman, against all rationality. Objectively, she knew that she had to keep a low profile and not make any waves, but the repercussions of her actions had not even crossed her mind earlier. There was nothing then but raw impulse, and a somewhat foolishness on her part, that had forced her to listen to that gut feeling.

Faced with those consequences, she hesitated before justifying herself. "We were talking and she left, so I caught up with her but they jumped me."

All three were looking at her with equal expressions of incredulity on their faces; and perhaps her admission was as astonishing to them as it was to her, still wary over her own reaction in the heat of the moment.

"Do you know how many fucking crazed Russians I've already had on the line, thanks to your little coffee break?" The man asked her as he was watching her, contempt lacing his voice at the trouble she had caused him, apparently not appeased at all. "And all that in less than half a day, you're a miracle worker in this shitty country apparently."

"No, James, I don't but I can imagine, I'm sorry" she tried to placate their PR rep, but the man wouldn't leave it alone, too intent on airing out his displeasure at the hockey player.

"That's strike two, Bella. Get a grip on yourself before you're benched for inappropriate behavior-" he was so infuriated at her that he missed Jacob's tight lips frowning at him before Bella interrupted his rant.

"Careful, James, you wouldn't want to overstep, right? I'm sorry you've had to deal with that mini crisis. It wasn't supposed to happen, but don't fucking start threatening me, asshole," she answered in a cold voice to the stunned man who gaped at her.

"OK guys, why don't we all take a step back and calm down?" Angela suggested, watching the growing tension between her teammate and the man handling their communication.

However much she despised the piece of work who handled their PR, she couldn't let him get the best of her friend in front of their coach. Bella was brilliant, but even their leader had to step in line sometimes, or their team would be nothing but a chaotic mess of individuals ineptly jumbled together, prohibiting them from functioning as an effective collective group.

Their coach jumped in, staring James down as he spoke with authority, his voice colder than the one spewing empty threats at his best player. "Do not mistake what little PR authority you hold for more than it is, James. As far as I know, you haven't been promoted to coach, and I am the only person responsible for the team roster."

The man spluttered at Jacob, suddenly turning apologetic- and some might say even fearful, at the mountain of a man standing besides him, glowering down upon him.

"Now, Jacob, certainly, you don't mean-" he started, but whatever honeyed-words he could come up with would not erase his previous surge of arrogance.

"Tell me, James," Bella smirked at him, her dark eyes glittering with cold fury, "who do you think is easiest to replace on the team? You or me?"

Her coach could not help but snort, the answer so obvious there was no need to ponder it any further than that. Angela tried to repress her amusement as she looked down and breathed deeply.

"Now Bella, there's no need for any of that..." James was no fool-unless he was overcome with his own stupidity, that is- he backed down at last, halfheartedly apologizing to the athlete, "I was just frustrated, and I apologize for taking it on you-"

"Good, then we're finished, yeah?" She asked, looking towards her coach more than the other man- another sign of the _high_ esteem she held for the smaller built James, though he couldn't recognize the clues her body was desperately sending off to everyone around them.

At Jacob's nod, she reached for her friend's arm, wanting to get the hell out of dodge as soon as humanly possible.

She ignored James' last comments as they left together. "Sure, we'll just have to coordinate our response strategy but I will call you later," he yelled while they made their escape, hopefully under no illusion that she would turn back and continue this conversation. Or at least she'd fucking hope so for his sake, given she had no intention at all on coming back to finish it.

Already thinking two moves ahead, she decided to send a text to Edward, asking him to monitor the internet and the response back home to the first posts in Russia. Her brother was his ever charming self, diligently assuring her that he would coordinate with the members of her own PR team and make damn sure that this would not affect her Games too much.

They needed to diffuse the situation obviously, but there was no telling how the Russians would take to their version of story telling. And if possible, there was the utmost need for discretion and smooth operating, as they could not afford to piss the country hosting the Winter Olympics any more than they could afford the bad press that was starting to accumulate on this side of the world. She was grateful for him; without her family and their support, she would be lost in her own world, which is precisely why she was thankful for his support.

His opinion- much like her family- were always useful and she used to weigh the pros and the cons based on their input, a method that had yet to fail her. Reassured by the grip they had on the situation, she hung up and went back to her room with her fellow teammate.

The rest of the evening was spent resting like a recluse in her room, effectively enjoying the perks of having the only solo occupation on their floor, left to her own devices by the rest of her team as she reflected on the turn of events brought on by these last twenty four hours; browsing the Internet as she laid sprawled on the bed, warily going through tweets and posts, scanning them and those Edward had sent her. Only to feel worse as she read each word that were reported by various US media- which had picked up the info via their Russian counterparts- and ordinary people alike. As ever, journalists and gossip mongrels were quicker than the general public to draw conclusions, while most of the regular folks were advocating a ceasefire on her behalf.

Not even skimming through the haters and their indignation, she focused on the positive reactions and the neutral ones rather than the attacks on her person. So far, there was speculation regarding whether she would release a statement to attempt to defuse an ever frenzied situation- bound to escalate into a full blown diplomatic incident, or so were solemnly declaring news anchors on every channel she could watch online.

Astonished at the links her brother had sent to her in the span of mere minutes, she was twitching nervously, anxious to do something instead of watching it all unfold before her eyes as a powerless bystander. She hated that, the media attention that came with sports, this never ending need to know everything about her...She was nothing special, well in her personal life at least- apart from the little issue of her sexuality, she was just a standard athlete.

Emmett and Sam were probably the two who got the most kick out of it, as they were always teasing their sister about her boring life. They were right, she led a bona fide, predictable, dull life. Her routine was the same every day for the most part- sleep, wake up, have breakfast, then training, eating and some more training, back to eating and finally sleeping. Some days, her schedule varied a bit, and she had a meeting or had nights out with friends, but her every day life pretty much amounted to that. Hence her brother and his lover's endless amusement in the interest her life suddenly held to others.

Granted, she should be happy that people were paying attention to her performances, but she could do without the scrutiny that came with it. Anonymous posters all around the US and aficionados abroad were dissecting her mundane life under a microscope, while those versed in her sports were speculating about her future moves in an already promising career. It was exhausting to face, though she tried to look on the bright side and see it for the recognition people were crediting her with.

Besides, it brought more attention to women hockey and female sport in general- which she couldn't help but feel proud of. It would at least be somewhat of an achievement for her, if she succeeded in her quest for gold and beyond that in her whole career; and was able to shine a spotlight on others through her accomplishments. Not that the US player was fundamentally selfless- truth be told, she was first and foremost striving to reach her goals for her, and not the benefit of others; yet it was a byproduct she was immensely grateful for.

Bella woke up in the middle of the night. Too restless to sleep anymore, she left her bedroom to get some fresh air. She thought about alerting someone in their security of her imminent departure with a text while she put her boots on, but all the same, she dismissed the idea- wanting to be left alone for a while, even if it went against the rules.

She deserved a break after that fucked up day, she thought, sneaking out as quietly as she could into the night. She loved to walk at night, there was a sense of peace in the quiet atmosphere enveloping the streets of the Olympic village. The hockey player felt better as she strolled down to the small park nearby- rather a patch of grass thrown in a corner to make for a greater bucolic scenery contrasting with the asphalt and the dull color of the compounds all around her.

She wandered down, trying to find an isolated bench to sit on and relax a while. Still meandering through the small park, Bella jumped when she heard she heard a noise somewhere a little further up the road. Curious, she wanted to find out what the sound was, though she was cautious. Ever apprehensive about what she would discover; almost missing the secure feeling she had when the security agents were by her side.

She felt a tad ridiculous at that assessment, there were still things they would not be able to prevent, regardless of their training- such as a bomb, or a moment of inattention, in which theory she would be dead. No one would be able to stop it, but that was alright; in the end, weren't we all liable to pass away at one time or another?

We are all fated to die, the first breath every human being takes is also the start of the end- a slow, sometimes agonizing decay until we expel the last breath from our chest. She had made her peace with the death question long ago, settling for a _que sera, sera_ policy- _whatever will be, will be_- along with her personal favorite, _carpe diem:_ enjoy every day as if it was your last one. There is no point in dwelling on the things one cannot control, best roll with the flow and ride out this crazy thing called life.

Bella heard the noise become louder as she walked towards it, turning down the corner to reach a faceless shape on a bench. The shape was moving back and forth, crouched down with the head tucked down towards the chest, shaking like a leaf from time to time. She observed from afar a little while, unsure if she should approach or leave the person be.

The hockey player never got the time to find out what she would do, for the silhouette turned her way. The visage revealed the woman that had been haunting her thoughts the past few hours. Tears were flowing down her cheeks, giving her beauty something tragic, and it tugged at Bella's heartstrings.

"What do you want? Can't you leave me alone? Pozhaluysta!" Rosalie exclaimed as she glared at Bella.

It was her turn to recoil at the cold demeanor the Slavic woman was throwing at her. Not that it was surprising for Bella, she had imagined, after their last encounter mere hours earlier went south, that the other athlete wouldn't exactly give her a warm welcome. That was indeed the case, as the Russian seemed intent on making her displeasure known.

Bella knew she had fucked up by letting herself throw away any common sense she possessed, apparently- not to say anything about her inner smooth talker. Shit, she had acted like an over eager teenager on a prom date, as if the gorgeous blond was the first beautiful woman thrown her way...And believe that, if nothing else, she had her share of puck bunnies vying for her attention.

Due to the media's interest in her, and her own physical attributes, not to mention experience, she knew perfectly well that she was good looking. With her long brown hair and its red streaks framing delicate, classic features- all that on an athlete's body, she was many a young lesbian's wet dream. So, thank you very much, but she was no newbie to picking up women, dates or sex. Relationships on the other hand? Another subject entirely.

"Whoa, Princess, calm down," Bella tried to appease the sobbing woman on the bench. She wasn't a crying expert either, but the broken look on the Russian blond's features would compel anyone to act.

She came closer to her, trying not to make any sudden moves, as to not startle her- much like one would with a wild animal; and from where the American stood, she was definitely as volatile as one. Must be that Slavic temper, she thought briefly as Rosalie watched her quiet approach, blowing hot then cold perpetually.

"Don't!" Rosalie warned in a flat, expressionless voice.

"Fuck, what happened to you?" Bella asked, facing the heartbroken beauty.

"Nothing-" the Russian turned away from the hockey player.

"That doesn't look like nothing," retorted the American.

"It is not any and your business-"

"Of," smiled Bella, correcting the slight mistake.

"What?" The blond frowned.

"Any _of _your business, Princess."

"Humph," she snorted through her tears, "Ya vse ravno, yeblya amerikantsy- pindos!"

"OK? I still don't understand but never mind. What's up? Why are you crying?"

"There is nothing to say-"

"Come one, try me, I'm a good listener," she answered with a smile.

The Russian said nothing, and for a little while there, Bella thought that she would remain silent as the tears came running down her cheeks.

"I...I," she murmured, "I am into troubles." This time, the American did not bother correcting her but took a seat, next to the skater on the bench.

Rosalie did not look up at the added weight besides her, no, she stuck her sight on an imaginary point, far away in front of her.

"Why?" Bella sat sideways, facing the blond's profile. She had to admit that the tears tracks on her face did nothing to diminish her stunning features. Quite the contrary, there was something dreadful to her stare, and her face looked distressed, yet hauntingly beautiful.

"Because," she hesitated, turning towards Bella at long last, "because of-"

"Me?" The hockey player cut her off, figuring the Russian team would not have appreciated their earlier misunderstanding slash scuffle any more than her own staff.

"Yes," she replied simply.

"I'm sorry-"

"You really do say that a lot, do you not?" The Russian remarked as she grinned to the US player.

"Hey, it got me a smile; Princess, that's a start, right?" Bella smirked back, glad the other woman seemed to feel a tiny bit better.

"Rosalie," the Slavic athlete reminded Bella with force.

"Alright, well, how bad is it then, Miss Rosalie?"

"My team is not happy-"

"Yeah, I'm sure they weren't thrilled," replied Bella with sarcasm.

"My sport is like a...a religion in Russia. People love hockey and figure skating, it's a...Vot der'mo, kak vy govorite, chto? Eto pochti traditsiya-"

"Traditsiya, tradition? An established practice?"

"Da, tradition," nodded Rosalie.

"OK, so they're pissed?"

"You don't understand, the President will come to my first competition and the start of the hockey only. It is that important here," Rosalie explained with a level head.

Bella was surprised- not about the hockey, she already knew the Federation was big on it- but she never thought they'd like figure skating so much. The fact that Putin's first two events in the Olympics would be those sports was highly significant. Count on the man to have a good strategy for anything, he was always prepared with contingencies plans, even for public relations. The man was a chess player and a military strategy connoisseur for fuck's sake.

"I didn't know," Bella admitted, "so, pissed, huh?"

"Yes, they are. Oni obozlennyy pokinut'. Pissed off, oni nedovol'ny."

"I'm sorry-"

"Stop saying that," Rosalie shouted suddenly, startling Bella who threw her hands up.

"Alright, shit, you scared the fuck out of me!"

"You swear-"

"Too much, you've said that already," Bella cut her off before she could state the obvious once again.

Rosalie smirked, seemingly forgetting all about her tears at last.

"You won't allow me to apologize...Will you at least tell me what happened? I suppose they've seen the pictures all over the Internet?"

"Yes, they have-"

"And?"

"My team was angry," she sighed.

"At you?"

"Not. Niet, ne u menya, no. "

"Ah," Bella had expected that the Russian officials would not have been any more thrilled than the general opinion of their people online. "Let them get pissed at me, Princess, I can handle it," she smiled and bumped Rosalie's shoulder with her own.

"You shouldn't have to," she turned to face Bella, with eyes full of sadness and a melancholic smile adorning her lips, "did you see _Rossii put' _yet?"

"The blog with us splashed on front page?"

"Da, they published our pictures first," she clarified.

"Yeah, my PR rep saw it before anyone, he showed it to me," Bella nodded at the Russian. "It's a bit funny actually," she shrugged, "he told me it said 's_ecurity backcheck__s__American lesbian__stalker__' _or something?"

Rosalie nodded, "da, why is it funny?" Frowning with her eyebrows raised, she stated, "someone on my security said the same thing to me."

Bella smirked before explaining to the confused little Russian who had a change of mood, now more curious than sad it seemed. "Because it's hockey lingo, it's a term we use, _backchecking_. It means rushing back to the defensive zone when an opposing team attacks."

"Oh. So, it is funny because of our the picture?"

"Exactly-"

"B-But...How can you find this amusing? Did someone translate eto- _it_, I mean, for you?" Rosalie gave her another frown, her sad eyes lowered to the ground as her shoulders heaved with a deep breath.

"I know," Bella laid her hand on the other woman's shoulder, "hey, it's not your fault, I should have been more careful, I didn't think-"

"Why did you do it?"

"I don't know, I didn't think, just reacted-"

"But why?"

Bella tried to come up with an answer to that, but was not willing to delve deeper into her own feelings herself. The Russian watched her intently and added, as fast as ever, in her native tongue, "výshe golový ne prýgnesh'."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you can not jump above your head," she explained to Bella who watched her with rapt attention, hanging on every word the Russian pronounced in that heavy accent of hers. "I tried to tell my team what happened, but they won't listen to me," Rosalie trembled again, rubbing her hands against her knees as she shook her head.

"Did you try to defend my honor, Princess? I'm flattered," Bella laughed to the outrage displayed on the little spitfire, she would much rather suffer the anger or the indignation if it dried her tears- not that she would ever admit that, upfront, to the Russian.

Rosalie swatted her arm away, "don't joke, my coach is furious and my staff want me to make a statement."

"So what? Do it," Bella retorted with arrogance.

"Der'mo, you do understand that they want me to say it is the truth, yes? That you have been stalking me?" She scoffed, her incredulous features staring back at the American.

"Yeah, well I can take it, Princess, don't you worry about me-"

"You still don't understand, people are going to hate you. I am loved in my country, they think I will win the gold and-"

"Hey, hey, Rosalie, look at me," Bella interrupted as she reached for the Russian's hand while she stared at her, trying to convey her strength to the other woman, who seemed still deeply affected by the backlash their little chance meeting had provoked. "It's OK, my team will release a statement to counter yours. It's nothing special, just dealing with the press and politics as usual."

The Russian took a deep breath, "I wish it did not have to be like this," she said, already resigned to her fate.

"It's OK-"

"Nothing about this is OK" Rosalie snapped back to the optimistic westerner at her side.

"Maybe, but it's useless to get worked up over things you cannot change, Rosalie," Bella brushed the hand that she still held in her grip, amazed the Russian had not snatched it back yet. She'd admit that the other woman had surprised her, she wasn't expecting the sadness nor the remorse, just reproaches for her reckless actions ultimately landing both of them in deep waters. There might be hope for her gorgeous, Slavic blond yet, she mused as she stared at the mess of emotions displayed on her face.

Her heart went out to the Russian, she was testing the boundaries of her own society against her will. Bella knew she was to blame for a large part in their current media debacle, she had acted without thinking about repercussions- and understood that her negligence had caused it. Yet, she couldn't help but feel glad that things had happened that way, for it got her a glimpse into the Russian's mindset and things were much more complicated than even she had foreseen.

The woman was obviously conflicted, there was this inner struggle inside the American between one part of her telling her that Rosalie was obviously interested, and the other one who tried to downplay the feeling and tell her that she was being nice and slightly bi-curious, nothing more.

She had practically sworn off straight women- ever since a debacle with a married woman in her early dating days- figuring they were more trouble than they were worth and besides, sexual attraction could not be commanded, so there was no point in trying to reach for the impossible.

Though there was this thing in her, pushing her towards the Russian, regardless of the grudges each country held for the other- just basic human appeal at work, drawing her towards the blond.

"You are always stoic?" Asked Rosalie, regarding the other nation's athlete as one would a very strange character, something unique that she was laying eyes upon for the very first time- a weird type of woman she was not sure how to deal with, someone who threw her off balance.

"I'm far from that, Princess, but what do you suggest we do? Do you want to speak out and explain how a notorious lesbian chased you down and flirted with you?" Bella questioned the blond, tightening her grip on her fingers, "shit, maybe you should just tell them straight up that I'm interested in you-"

"You are?" Rosalie raised her head to gape at the hockey player, a bewildered look in her eyes as she seemed to weigh that statement.

"Of course I am, Princess," Bella laughed at the astonished look on the other woman's face.

"But-But, I thought-"

"What? Come on, Rosalie, I'm not gonna jump you but I won't lie either, of course I think you're beautiful-"

"You do?" The Russian cut her off, still looking absolutely bewildered at the concept.

"For fuck's sake, Rosalie, have you looked in a mirror recently? You're beautiful, surely that's not news to you?"

"I-I...Of course, I mean...You are- and I'm not...I just thought that...I don't know," she spluttered.

"Well now you know," Bella smirked at the speechless blond, wiggling her eyebrows to amuse the woman- and make light of the heavy implications each revelation of the slightest feeling could have for both athletes.

They said nothing more for a moment and just sat quietly next to one another, spacing out; each of them struggling with their thoughts and feelings. It went on for a while, until Rosalie finally set her sights on Bella, grabbing her elbow to get closer to her and bridge the small gap between them.

To Bella's amazement, the Russian never stopped leaning forward until they stood nose to nose, Rosalie's body fully angled towards Bella's as their breaths mingled together, their faces barely an inch apart.

"Rosalie," Bella warned in a rough voice, not sure she would have the restraint later on to stop herself.

"Don't move, I want to try something," the Russian answered, slightly hesitating at the heavy stare the US player gave her.

Lo and behold, she brushed her full lips against Bella's- albeit tentatively at first, perhaps on account of the high stakes both players were chancing. Yet, her lips seemed to press more firmly, opening to graze her tongue to Bella's bemused ones.

Slowly but surely, her tongue invaded the American's mouth, and Bella stopped resisting altogether. Her hands came to rest on the Russian's waist as her palm slid along her neck, supporting her every move and guiding the Slavic blond to press her body onto Bella's impatient limbs. Every instinct was telling the hockey player to take charge and lead the rebellious kiss the other woman seemed intent on inflicting to the American.

Their kiss was bruising, almost reproachful, their lips clashed together with violence- demanding, passionate and harsh at the same time. It wasn't a unicorn and rainbows kiss, but a tragic, epically vicious one. The cold Russian let her fiery soul out it seemed, if that tempestuous kiss was to be trusted, however Bella gave as good as she got, rewarding Rosalie's effort with a heated response of her own. It went on for a while, although Bella couldn't keep track of time, too busy with the other woman's unexpected burst of desire to care about such trivial things; until Rosalie stepped back.

When she did, the Russian was stunned- her eyes were glazed over, much like Bella's- even though there was this determination at first in the blond's eyes, it was quickly dismissed by a flash of conflicting emotions on her face.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have," she whispered, apparently still shell shocked over her own actions.

"It's OK, Princess," Bella reassured the panicking blond with a smile.

"No, I can't- I- I'm sorry," she sputtered, still half dazed it appeared.

"Rosalie-"

"Niet, I'm- I- vy ne mozhete tak postupit' so mnoy," she said quickly, seemingly reverting to her mother tongue every time she was in a stressful situation.

Bella was about to cut her rant out and try to comfort her as best as she could, over what was an obviously confusing situation for the Russian, but she never got the chance to even try. Rosalie shook her head and mumbled "ya ne mogu, ya ne. Mne ochen' zhal'," before she took off running, disappearing into the darkened streets before Bella's incredulous eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

**From Russia With Love**

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say.****** Enjoy & thanks for reading. **

******I own nothing but my ideas and words, everything else belongs to its rightful owner.**

**Special thanks to those who put my story on alert/favorite and to my reviewers. ****I'm ****still very much ****a****maz****ed that people l****ike it! ****I appreciate your support, just as much as I like hearing your take on the plot and any criticism or comment you might have. **

**LeslieAtwood – ****I hear you! ****Indeed, our little Russian is throwing her for a loop...and it's not over yet. Blame those goddamn accents, that Slavic temper and politics :P**

******Jay aka Jordan – ****Wait until you see what I have in store for them ;)**

******piccolodian – ****Sure, does it distract you from the story? Sorry, wasn't my intention. **

******s********etchan-1995 – ****Is that your way of saying I need to put the translation that goes with it? lol **

**(Yes, it's the 007 in you) **

**Thanks, I guess I'll strive to do better and turn it into a full blown epic story :)**

******Roselia Rose – ****Thank you! Glad I can keep you on your toes ;) **

**I was going for a 'lost in translation' feel, if you like, but it's not worth it if it is only confusing the readers or distracting them from the story. **

**Her last sentence, ****'****Niet, vy ne mozhete tak so mnoy****' (****Нет, вы не можете так со мной****)****, means 'No, I'm- I...You can't do that to me'**

******Niqo – ****Still no sign of her;) Thanks, I can't say just yet but you will find out...eventually !**

******theoneandonlyts – ****Did I mention I like slow burns ? Lol But yeah, finally some action between our two ladies :P Thank you !**

******FaberryBRA - :P **

******BellaFan – ****Ah ah, it's so annoying when that happens...Suddenly what you're reading makes no sense anymore lol**

**You wouldn't believe how much I cut every time I edit a chapter, ****t****he 7th was 2000 words longer at first. And yes, guilty as charged, I do like politics, I will try not to let it take over too much, promise;) but it will continue to play a significant role throughout the story for obvious reasons. It was important to ****start by**** put****ting**** things in perspective, and explain the situation as easily as possible for people who might not be into politics or history as much as I am. I'd like to think that after reading the whole story, not only will you guys be entertained and hopefully touched by Bella and Rose's relationship, but maybe learn a small thing or even just be reminded of knowledge you already possess. Though if it's too boring, or too much again, ****if it feels like a 'school lesson', ****please don't hesitate to tell me. I'm trying to balance the context, history and geopolitics of the story, and do something a bit different from what's out there, ****though ****it should not prevent your enjoyment or their story. That said, this is a slower burn than most stories and to be fair, it should be ****a long one. Thank you, I'm glad you liked the second chapter better, with any luck it will continue with this one :)**

******lurryforever – ****She did :) but the Russian's not gonna switch over her side that easily ;)**

******Tigerforce – ****Ah, ah, I want to laugh evilly and say something like 'no dirty fucking just yet' lol Blame it on a brain spasm :)****Nevertheless**** I'm moving things along. Thank you so much, here you go, not even a full week later.**

******CatchingStar – ****Yes it is, and I'm afraid there is more trouble to come...It is a tricky situation for her, and she's faced with something that could potentially be explosive, not only regarding the media and her career but in her own, personal life ****so she's going to be apprehensive still and they won't jump headstrong into anything. I make no promises, not that I like to torture my sweet readers ;) ****but nowadays, everyone and their brother can be a photograph with their phone so it's more difficult than it used to be I guess. True, their situation is already fucked up but I'm afraid it is going to get worse before it gets better. Besides, nothing worth having ever came easy right ?**

******EvilRegalQueen97 – ****Was that a good wow or a bad one ? Lol buckle up ;) **

******Akasha Hallows28 – ****Thank you so much, let me know how you like this one.**

******Kara-24 – ****Yes they did ! Ah ah, seems everyone was eagerly waiting for that. I'm so glad you're still on board. I've said it before, but it's not going to be an easy ride for them. I have more Russian readers I've noticed these days ****and I still love your reviews in Cyrillic !**

******softballer2118 – ****Thank you so much, let me know what you thought !**

**–-**

**On another note, I've been amazed by the number of different countries you guys come from! ****Just saying, the Internet can be such a great thing, connecting people... (No, I don't work for Nokia)**

**And I'm sorry if the lack of Russian translation bothered you. I'm unsure on my stance about that, I think sometimes it is useful to keep the reader guessing and not fully aware of every little thing, much like Bella is in the story- ****s****he understands only a smaller portion of what Rosalie says in her language...I suppose I felt ****it wasn't ****necessary to disclose everything- and be reassured that you have not missed anything that important, I would have translated it****.**

**That said, some of you have expressed a desire to see translations at the bottom, ****and it cannot hurt, so I'll let you decide whether you want to know everything or not****. **

**[chapter 8 – Fucking Feelings]**

Still dazed, she went back to the US compound. Moving along the streets of the Olympian village, she stumbled against the sidewalk and was expecting to collide with the ground, laying hard on the pavement. Her prediction never had the chance to fulfill itself, for arms wrapped around her waist, keeping her upright.

After regaining her balance, she turned around to face the man who had been assigned to her security most frequently ever since they landed in Sochi.

"Surprised?" Asked Aro, watching her with a smirk shaping his paper thin lips.

"What are you doing here?" Bella gaped at man.

"Did you think you could go as you pleased without us knowing?"

"But-but...How?" She asked him, not having heard his approach- not even aware that he had followed her in the first place.

"We're on 24/7, Miss, there is always at least two of us watching the entrance at all time. Our job is to protect you guys, even when we get a runner," he winked at the hockey player.

She had asked the agent multiple times to drop the formality and just call her Bella, but the man was struggling with it, too accustomed to it by that point in his career. Some of her fellow athletes insisted that there should be no familiarity between them and the security agents, though she believed that to be utter bullshit. To each its own, of course, but those guys did not deserve such attitude; especially from the people they would take a bullet for, if it ever came down to it. For her part, she was trying to be nice with them, just like her, they were only doing their job and she wasn't one of those stuck-up bitches who looked down on everyone. She made a point to be as down to earth as possible- and truth be told, her mom would have her hide if the temptation was ever there, Esme had raised all three of her kids right, to be polite and well mannered; so really, it was a no brainer to her.

"Well fuck me sideways, I thought I was being discreet-"

"I bet you did," the man laughed as they started walking back towards their accommodations, "I got kids, Miss-"

"Bella," she corrected.

"Right, Bella, anyways, I know what a guilty, about to sneak out person looks like."

"Damn, so you've been following me the whole time?" She sighed apprehensively, glancing at Aro from the corner of her eyes. That was just what she needed, on top of her Russian turmoils.

"Yes-"

"Look, I can explain, please don't say anything to James," she pleaded as she cut him off.

"I won't-"

"Thank you so much, Aro," she interrupted again, expressing all the gratitude she felt towards the man who wouldn't rat on her to the powers that be.

"Don't thank me yet, I wasn't finished. I won't, as long as it doesn't impact your security. That is still our only concern, the rest is politics and your business. Our mission was very clear on that and there is no snitching clause on your behavior during the Games, so please don't try to sneak out again-"

"I won't, thank you, I promise," she assured the serious man, grateful for his don't ask, don't tell policy.

"Listen, after we finish discussing it, I've seen nothing, but til then, I need you to tell us if this thing goes on, because of the chain reactions it could set off with the Russians. They won't be happy," he said as he watched her solemnly.

"I know," she whispered, knowing full well the situation was already explosive after the picture debacle. Neither country would take kindly to an affair between their star athletes. But she was getting ahead of herself; as for now, it wasn't an affair- merely a stolen kiss and heated looks the Russian had surprised her with. The attraction was there though, and only time could tell what would happen with Rosalie. Lust was a dangerous thing and emotions tended to cloud one's judgment, flooding their minds with irrationality and ultimately leading towards rash behavior.

"I'm going to overstep but perhaps, if it is bound to happen again, it might be wise to avoid any outside venues, alright?" Suggested her agent as he pulled her back from her daydream.

"Yeah, I hear you. I'll be careful."

They stopped talking, Aro reassured that he had made his point as Bella was still reflecting on the words of advice the man had just dispensed to his charge while they made their way back, still shrouded in darkness.

A few hours of sleep later, it was the start of another day for the athlete. It began with a shower, followed by a breakfast of champions with her team. Unsurprisingly, she was the main topic of conversation amongst her teammates, most of them wanted to understand and know the truth about the articles and the gossip surrounding her picture, but she was glad to see that a large portion of her team was fully supporting her. Some had wolf whistled at her arrival, and of course, Lauren had to distinguish herself and taunt her.

"Fucking the enemy already Bella? Damn, you work fast-"

"Shut up, Lauren, that was uncalled for," retorted Angela, quick as ever to defend those she loved.

"I don't know, Lauren, seems to me the fact that you're still a duster on the roster says you're well beyond my own accomplishments," she snapped to the mean girl wannabe, not the least impressed by her allegations. The woman was a mean cunt, that was a fact. Though frankly, coming from the slut who probably landed her spot on their team with her deep throat skills- yet couldn't fathom the skills to be more than a bench warmer- it was a meaningless, cheap jab.

There was laughter and comments thrown in by her fellow players, in a boisterous atmosphere. Overall, they were a quite randy bunch- contrary to most people's opinion, women were not any less crude than their masculine counterparts, quite the opposite sometimes.

She took it in stride, never faltering against her coarse comrades, seeing how her brothers and the all around masculine field that was her sport, had steeled her nerves.

Coach Black put his team through the ringer as the training hours accumulated for his athletes. He wasn't about to back down so close to their objectives. The man put up a solid front in the media, never too arrogant nor modest; yet firmly believing in their chances to bring the Gold back to their homeland.

As his team was leaving the ice, he took the time to speak with his best player- knowing full well that she would not be leaving at the same time, as her own training regiment had been seriously impeached by her latest Russian misfortunes.

"I've talked to James, he still wants you to issue a formal apology," he began as they skated back and forth on the barn.

Bella sighed, thought bitterly to Rosalie's own position probably mirroring her own at this moment.

"Yeah, my brother suggested a simple statement explaining what happened. Neutral, as to not incense the Russians," she told him, revealing to her coach the content of Edward's latest text. "I apologize for my behavior yesterday."

"Don't mention it, he is an asshole and he shouldn't have said it. Though maybe next time you could try to be a little more diplomatic, Swan" Jacob advised her, his serious eyes intent on his world-class player.

"Thanks-"

"Don't, my job is to protect my team as well, you know that," he patted her shoulder with a glimpse of a supporting smile.

"I'm still grateful coach."

"Alright," he added with a gruff voice and cleared his throat, "don't stay too long, I want you in top form tomorrow, Swan."

"Yes coach!" She straightened on her skates, standing on guard before saluting her coach like a soldier would have his commanding officer.

"Ah ah, very funny, Swan," Coach Black turned to her, leaning against the door for on-ice entry. "Don't forget to practice your mid barn shots!"

"Yes, sir," she jested while he exited the rink.

Bella dangled the puck around an imaginary opposing player for a while, skating around the pylons her coach had left on the barn for her little practice session. Her limbs moved mechanically, with her mind blank, focused on the motions drilled into her muscle memory- without needing her input as her movements were guided by years of repeated workout.

She turned and wheeled, firing a slapshot from the middle of the barn. She fist pumped at her own success, whistling- which she would never do in a game. Bella wasn't one for cellys- that only lead to monumental chirping. Besides, her father thought the best players were those who acted and fired lasers, not those who strutted like peacocks every time they did their job.

She heard clapping and whirled around, noticing Rosalie leaning against the wall, behind the door that allowed skaters access to the barn.

"What are you doing here?" She asked as the other seemed back to her stoic facade, regarding her coolly with her features twisted in a severe, almost mocking frown while she applauded.

"It's my slut-

"Slot," Bella corrected, smiling at the slip of her tongue.

"No matter. You cannot be here," she said snottily, taking off her skates guards on the carpet before stepping on the ice rink.

Rosalie warmed up in front of the bemused American. The damn woman was giving her whiplash. For the first time in a long while, Bella wasn't sure how to react. It appeared to be the only common denominator linking their encounters, she would never know which Rosalie she'd be faced with. Would it be the skittish kitten who kissed her? Or the rude bitch with the scathing verve? Shit, did she flip a coin each time they met to decide which facet of her personality she would uncover?

"Oh yeah? Who says, princess?" She bit back to the skater still twirling in front of her.

"You made life very difficult for me yesterday," Rosalie softly uttered as she looked down.

"Really? That's all you have to say after yesterday?" She looked baffled to the Russian, not believing this would be what she pointed out first. To Bella, the case was closed, they had explained each other previously and that was that. Biting the bullet, she went with appeasement, steeling the bitter comeback threatening to escape from her lips. "I never meant for this fucked up mess to happen, Rosalie, I already apologized. What else do you want from me?"

"I would hope not," the Russian snorted, shaking her blond head back and forth.

"I'm sorry."

"Da, tak vy skazali, yes. No eto ne imeyet nikakogo znacheniya," she mumbled, "I- it...still makes the situation..not- not different," Rosalie struggled with her words, scrunching up her eyebrows as she formed them.

"I know. Look, it's been blown out of proportion, my team tightened up security and I have a statement ready to go public if need be, but-"

"But chto? Err...what?"

"You know what. You-"

"Are you going to say it?" She cut her off.

"Do you want me to, Rosalie?" Bella countered, coming closer to the skittish Russian. She watched the other woman squirm a bit, she heaved a breath, the blond tried to speak but the words wouldn't come out. She choked in front of the US player, never answering her question. Rosalie put her hands against her face and sagged, losing her composure as Bella touched her shoulder. She kept it light, barely making contact with her skin as her fingers hovered above her skin. Bella observed her palm hovering above the curve of her neck, itching to stroke it but not sure she should. She brushed the pad of her thumb against it with a flick of her wrist, and stepped closer to the Slavic blond, her right arm encircling her around the waist. Bella hesitated a little, fearing it might be too much for her little spitfire, but went against her own self preservation instincts and hugged the blond anyways, happy to feel the warmth of Rosalie's body against hers.

"What do you want, Rosalie?" She whispered against her ear, stepping back to watch her conflicted face.

"I don't want to feel like this," she sighed, "I just...I was never-"

"It's alright, Princess, you're gonna be fine-"

"No I am not," Rosalie muttered. She seemed distressed, the soft lilt in her tone turning somber as she spoke. Her body huddled up on itself, and she would not look up to meet Bella's eyes- no matter how much their present closeness seemed to affect her.

Bella trailed her hands up to her chin, tilting the Russian's face towards her while she tried to come up with the words that would appease the other athlete, give her a semblance of normality in the world she had involuntarily shaken up ever since they met.

She could sympathize only too well with the confusion Rosalie was experiencing right now. She had that moment too, back in the day when she started feeling different than other little girls, the only major difference between their circumstances was their age, as Bella had realized quite early on in her life that her heart would never be swayed by boys. Hence her empathy with the sudden burst of feelings exploding inside the Russian's mind. She recognized the confusion, the doubt and the anger it brought in the perfect little life she had made for herself. But perhaps Rosalie's situation was worse. To suddenly doubt everything one knew so far couldn't have been easy, rather than knowing almost right from the start.

Still, she couldn't help but be glad she was affecting the other woman as much as she sent her own damn mind spiraling. The US player had been determined to forget all about Rosalie. She wanted to wipe out her gorgeous face and those baby blue eyes from her mind; the distinguished air her nose gave the woman, atop her full lips and that athletic body giving her a glimpse at wonderful curves hidden from her sight. Yet here they were.

The coffee debacle had forced their path to cross once more, thrown together in the midst of their respective countries aspirations in the Games. They were singled out by both sides, designated as an anomaly to be picked apart until it caved and conformed to what was supposed to be. Bella refused to be held hostage, whether it be by the media or her own fucking country, she wasn't a pawn that her leaders could dangle back and forth to infuriate their foe and spike the tensions between each nation.

The Russian had kissed her, albeit with hesitance and tentatively but still, she had bridged the gap between them to graze her lips across her own and enter what seemed to be a new territory for her. And she had done so of her own accord.

"You kissed me," Bella said under her breath, still very much astonished that she had actually done it the day before.

"I.." Rosalie sighed, continuing in that low, melancholic tone of hers; "I didn't-"

"Don't say you didn't mean it, Princess," interrupted the hockey player, "that wasn't an oops, I tripped and fell on your lips moment, and we both know it."

Rosalie turned her face away from Bella, breaking free from the palm holding it in place as she moaned in frustration. The sound took both of them by surprise, Bella was watching the confusion spread heatedly across the Russian's features, highlighted by bitterness.

"I _can't_," she spoke while she stepped back from their embrace, "you don't understand, I can't be like that, like you...I'm not strong enough-"

"Oh, Princess," Bella cut her off, tightening her arms holding the Slavic beauty close to her, as she murmured. She felt the erratic thump of the heartbeat echoing against her tense frame, nothing in her posture willing to loosen up the stiffness of her muscles pressed against the US player.

"Ya ne mogu...Ne delay etogo so mnoy," she heard in the crook of her neck where Rosalie had burrowed her forehead; lost in translation and overwhelmed by the feelings surging through her.

She was not prepared for that. Lust, she could handle, fucking was her thing. But feelings? That shit was messed up, plain and simple. Feelings complicated everything, it made meaningless affairs become intricate entanglements of affection, desire, needs and passionate devotion she did not want to subject herself to.

She had seen her parents, who still loved each other to this day- after more than twenty years of marriage- and her brothers relationships blossom into strong commitments to their significant others. And from where she stood, it looked fascinating. To still appreciate your partner after years of intimacy- marred by the shit life threw at them, and the routine installed after a while- was amazing to her. She just wasn't sure it was for her, she liked being a free agent. Her track record in relationships spoke for itself, save for a few relationships which lasted for some months, she essentially had friends with benefits, or the sacrosanct fuck buddy- her saving grace for a time if there ever was one.

Although it suited her, it was no picture of what togetherness looked like. Acknowledging she had no true ground to stand on and know how to deal with that thing blooming between them, Bella could not help the attraction she felt. For once, she wanted more. Or she thought she did, maybe...There was that annoying part of her who wanted more, despite the fact that she wanted to fuck Rosalie all night long. She would like to deny it was there; that annoying, freaking inkling deep down inside, or the way her heartbeat was pounding in her chest every time they had a confrontation, a moment...

Fuck, she wanted to get a grip on herself and get her control back. In an ideal world, they would fuck, then go on their merry way without looking back. In that realm, she would obliterate their meetings in the deep recess of her brain and only keep in mind the memory of her body; which she would have fucked sideways until the Russian passed out- a fuck and run, a simple, uncomplicated, sexual tryst. Nothing messy about that.

In their reality, however, she found herself daydreaming about the other athlete; wondering about her life ever since the Russian had opened up to her. The woman was beautiful, no doubt about that, but her personality, alternatively blowing hot and cold to keep her on her toes- sometimes harsh then soft, a warrior on the ice yet a skittish kitten when she was faced by the unknown it seemed- appealed to her. It called to something within the US athlete, hell, maybe there was a masochist in her- if the recent days meant something. She had trouble reconciling what she knew with what she discovered, much like Rosalie she'd surmise. Add to that the confusion stemming in the Russian about her sexuality and that was just a recipe for disaster.

Interrupting the train of her thoughts, Rosalie tilted her chin towards Bella. The American watched in wonder as her cheeks reddened and she timidly brushed her lips against Bella's. Fuck it, she thought. She was only human, and that was one temptation she could not resist. She did what any sane woman would have done in her stead, and kissed her back.

–-

**Russian 101 :**

**Da, ****tak vy skazali** = Yeah, so you've said.

**No eto ne imeyet nikakogo znacheniya** = But it doesn't make any difference.

**Chto?** = what

**Ya ne mogu...Ne delay etogo so mnoy** = I can't...Don't do this to me.


	9. Chapter 9

**From Russia With Love**

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say.****** Enjoy & thanks for reading. **

******I own nothing but my ideas and words, everything else belongs to its rightful owner.**

******A mea culpa is in order, sorry this chapter is ********updated ********later than the ********others********. Shit happens, guys, what else can I tell you? :) ********though I should resume my usual pace for this story, fear not readers. ********And as a peace offering, it's longer than any other chapter!**

**Special thanks to those who put my story on alert/favorite and to my reviewers. ****I'm ****still very much ****a****maz****ed that people l****ike it! ****I appreciate your support, just as much as I like hearing your take on the plot and any criticism or comment you might have. **

******Niqo – ****Thanks! I know, right, the man has hidden talents ;) But they make it so worth it. Hang in there, I sense more coming your way :P**

******Tigerforce – ****Exactly my thoughts. What can one do when faced with blond bombshells but succumb to temptation? Lol I'm afraid Bella is only human...**

**I'm glad it makes it easier for you and more enjoyable, it was never my intention to make it harder for my lovely readers, I figured no one would bother to look it up...My bad! ****Here you go, hopefully you'll like it.**

******BellaFan – ****Thank you! You couldn't see it, but that 'aw' made me grin like a fool ;) Great to see it's living up to your expectations so far, I shall await the verdict anxiously for this one...You're welcome, and thanks again for your kind words and comments, reviews make me think hard about each line, and see things in another perspective, which is always good- though I do tend to lean slightly towards psycho neurotic compulsive editing I'll confess :)**

**Leslie Atwood – ****You won't hear any complaints from me, I like it too much ;) Ah, got busted? Damn, good for her...and should I ****dare to ****suggest a Russian accent for the next role play? ****:D**

******vertigo123**** – ****Thank you so much, sorry you had to wait for this one. You're right of course, things will be shaky for her, should any more pictures of them together surface...just sayin' :) ****Let me know how you liked this one.**

******s********etchan-1995 – ****Then I shall refrain from commenting on it ;) I'm still surprised that you'd even like it, after all it's just a little story amongst many great ones, so thank you. I'm so glad you think I'm improving, though like I said before, it puts the pressure on...And I am constantly editing, rephrasing, cutting bits off to make it less political or more straight to the point, emphasizing some things and forgetting others. I hope you will ****continue to ****like it ****just as much ;****)**

******Kara-24**** – Thanks, I think so too ;) Ah ah, we'll see if you're right but I won't lie, it will probably happen sooner rather than later...Sorry for the delay, I hope you'll like it.**

******koolawantxox4u**** – ****Ah ah ****I don't wanna sound like a broken record, but it's not over yet :) (picture me with an evil grin on my face as I type lol)**

******FaberryBRA – ****I will take that as an approbation smiley :)**

******piccolodian – ****Glad you like it, now there will be nothing left to distract you from the story -hopefu****lly, unless you hate where it's going and you'll have to complain to my brain :)**

******Guest**** – Thank you!**

******tlc125**** – ****I understand that more than you know ;) I thought I lost you between chapters, but I am happy to see it was just a matter of busy schedule! And that's not to say anything about your kind words which are much appreciated, ****thank you ****;) I think so too, perhaps because she would not have expected that attitude at first, so she was kind of perplexed at the same time...I'm thrilled that you'd get such compulsions, I frequently scream at mine- and my poor TV when I'm watching an episode of Walking Dead amongst others...I'm constantly warning the characters about impending doom but they never listen, go figure :D) ****So, please, scream away lol I'm glad they call your inner mother bear to the surface, because they're going to need it quite soon...Hey, in her defense, it's always strange the first time it happens :)****But yes, there is progress on the menu. ****And drawbacks, but I can't always spoil the good moments with my inner evil bitch though she is quite persistent. I hope you won't hate what I have in store for this chapter and hey, who knows, you might even like it :) I can't wait to see how you will react.**

******Jay aka Jordan – ****She's powerless to resist the temptation that is Rosalie, I'm glad you****'d**** understand ;)**

******Renu**** – True, she is, though you won't believe how much I'm taming her backstage...I guess part of it is due to the fact that she's not used to such hostile circumstances and while she does know better, her 'fuck it' attitude just takes over. You're right on the political agenda being more often than not a priority and they will have to deal with that constantly, I'm not making any promises- yet :) - but with a bit of luck, planning and maneuvering, anything is possible.**

******L.L.L ****– Thank you! ****S****orry for the ****late update****, I had ****two crazy weeks :)**

******Akasha Hallows28 – ****You're welcome, glad you like it so far!**

******niyadddy**** – Whoa, thanks! I love the fruit punch analogy ;) I have no intention on giving up this story, I have too much fun writing it... Sorry, this one was later than my previous rhythm, though it should go back to normal for the next one. **

******Jamie**** – Thank ****you,**** let me know what you thought about this one ;)**

******Zelda's Hero**** – Thank****s****, hopefully you will still be on board after this one...I ****can't say this enough but ****this is not gonna be an easy ride, ****there will be some v***e*c*, *e*, p*l**ic** t**s*o** and much more, count on that. ****(And yes, I'm ****grinning ****as I'm typing ****this****, I have no shame :****D ****)**

******[chapter ********9******** – ********Russkiy syurpriz******** ! ********]**

She stumbled as Rosalie gripped her shoulder to lean on her but righted herself. The blond laughed at her little mishap, her face lightening up while Bella glared down to the smaller woman, though she could not stop the tiny smile threatening to overtake her features.

There was something intriguing about the Russian, she kept dancing around her with that cold yet burning, Slavic temper of hers, never giving too much away about herself so far, yet kissing her on a whim. She was unlike any woman she had ever met; she piqued her interest, and hard as she tried, the universe seemed dead set on crossing their paths time and time again. What was a woman to do, in such circumstances, but roll with it and see where it got her?

"Oh, you think this is funny, Princess?" Bella asked the giggling woman. Today was full of surprise- not only could she smile, but she could laugh too. Who knew, the hockey player thought while she grabbed Rosalie to bring her closer.

"Chto my delayem? YA khochu-"

"English, please," Bella cut off the flustered Russian, with a smile and a light tone which did not reflect the feelings festering between them.

"What are we doing?" She asked with a frown marring her beautiful face, worry etched on the lines tracing her features as she looked up to Bella.

"I don't know, Rosalie, you tell me, you kissed me," Bella answered honestly. She wanted to know what the Russian thought; if it was something more than an experiment to her, the 'I kissed a girl' moment and I'm so cool now...No fucking need to torture herself if that was the case, she mused with bitterness. Ever since that song, straight girls just loved to show off with a little girl on girl lip action, often for the benefit of their lucky boyfriends, as a simple way of attracting attention or merely to say they've done it. The US player did not need to lay her whole damn life on the line if the Russian held no other intentions than filling a bucket list at her expense.

There was no telling how much of a fucking disaster their connection would lead to. Not only were the stakes high because of the Games, but the politics behind it all would inevitably turn a relationship between them into a major cluster fuck neither of them needed to deal with. There seemed to be no happy ending possible to their story. Given the reaction a picture of them together had provoked, what good could come out of their relationship?

If it came to that, eventually...Bella was lost in thought, trying to piece together the many different outcomes there could be to their Olympian affair. But no matter how much she wanted to believe it could happen, she saw nothing but trouble for them. Yet, Bella- much likeIcarus fleeing the labyrinth, couldn't help but fly too close to the sun, irrepressibly drawn to the strange Slavic creature. She knew it was a bad idea, hell she could hear her brother's voice tell her to be _responsible_ and not do anything too _reckless; _Bella would bet a hundred bucks on those being the exact words Edward would be screaming at her if he could.

Her mind was playing the reasonable card, screaming at her to get out of there while she still could, while her heart told her there was something there. It was a strange feeling, almost as if a part of her own heart was trying to betray her, forcing Bella to acknowledge it while her brain tried to steer her clear of any wrongdoing. The two forces were waging a war inside of her, yet not even the realistic part of her would be sufficient enough to deter Bella from finding out if it was real or just a figment of her imagination.

She had said fuck it, and she meant it. She would take a leap for once in her life, and maybe, yes, against her better judgment. But she would do it- not for the sake of love or whatever bullshit Disney had tried to sell her when she was a kid, she'd do it for herself, because she deserved to find her connection, it was her human right to rid herself of that primal need, goddammit...All joke aside, why would the Universe show her that tiny sliver of a connection, only to rip it from her grasp? What was the fucking point? While she wasn't superstitious like her fellow teammates, even she had to admit that there was such a thing as just too many freaking coincidences.

Besides, it was exciting, this rush of adrenaline only lust and emotions could give a person, the thrill it brought her as she bantered with the feisty Russian and pushed while the other pulled, a crazy Olympian tango both of them wanted to lead. Their respective tempers would most definitely lead to a disaster of equal proportion to the blow out they should prepare for- if they were to go any further than heated kisses here and there. Flashes of feelings whispered in secret could only get them so far and Bella wasn't a half assed kinda girl- never had, never would.

That was what landed her the spot she aimed for on the national team and in Sochi in the first place. Either she was in or out, there was rarely any middle ground in her personal life or her career, for that matter. From time to time, her Mom reminded her that she should tamper that radical side of her personality but she was a lost cause, though even her dear mother had to admit on occasion that she had come a long way since her teenage years.

"I don't know," she exclaimed still furrowing her brow, "I told you I never did anything like that!"

Bella had to laugh at the expression of utter outrage displayed on her face. She took a step back, and skated backwards with her right hand extended, expecting Rosalie to follow her as she headed towards the on-ice entry door.

"No-what are you doing?" The other woman interrupted, apparently not getting the clue Bella was trying to convey.

"Come on, we're getting out," the hockey player answer as she skated back to the bemused Russian, holding out her hand once more.

"Pochemu-"

"I know this one," Bella interrupted what was sure to be another Slavic rant, not that she didn't enjoy hearing the language, because she did, very much so- but she did not want to tempt fate anymore than they already had and stay on the barn, too exposed to prying eyes. "Jesus, Princess, you ask too many questions. Now come on, or do I need to give you a piggyback ride?" She winked and gave her a cheeky smile.

Rosalie huffed indignantly, steeled herself and skated right past Bella, snottily ignoring her. If anything, it amused the American and did nothing more than spike her latent lust at the feisty behavior. Plus, it gave her a great view of that glorious ass, she thought as she smirked and got out of the barn to put her skates guards back on. Fuck, she was such a glutton for punishment, Bella thought as she watched Rosalie tap her foot to signal her impatience.

"What now?" The Russian, who was waiting for her with her arms crossed beneath her breasts, huffed as she glared.

"Now we go somewhere-"

"Where?"

"I don't know. Would you come with me if I could sneak you into my hotel?" She asked, only half kidding, part of her eager to provoke her little spitfire in the wake of the heavy conversation that was coming their way.

"What?" Rosalie was horrified, "I'm not-YA ne sobirayus' zanimat'sya seksom s vami!"

"English, Rose," Bella requested as she took Rosalie's hand in hers, the pet name slipping out against her will. See, this attraction mind fuckery shit was already giving her bad habits. Though to be fair, she'd much rather think about pet names than complicated feelings and their implications.

"I am not sexing with you-"

"Fucking, you mean, Princess," she laughed at the stunned athlete who was regarding her with hostility once more, her cheeks blazing red as she glared her down.

"No matter, I am not-"

"Jesus, I heard you the first time, I wasn't suggesting we have sex, Rosalie, merely that we go somewhere private to talk."

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_." Bella shrugged her shoulders as she watched her little spitfire deflate before her eyes, "not that I wouldn't enjoy it," she winked. Rosalie meekly slapped her shoulder and huffed, not even dignifying her last comment with an answer.

"OK, moving on...Look, maybe we can go in the locker room then? Less risky, yes?"

"Da, no-" Rosalie started but silenced herself as they walked toward the nearby room Bella's team used to change, both athletes wanting the privacy they deserved for such a personal conversation.

Bella was thinking about the KGB, and how it would be just like Putin to bug every square foot of the Olympics infrastructures. And really, who could blame him? To have every country in the world and their delegations inches away from his prying ear was probably a wet dream of his, she thought sarcastically as she closed the door behind his country's best chance of medal in the skating part of the Games. And what an asset she was, she mused again, watching her pace back and forth before her eyes.

"No means but in Russian right?" Bella tried to start with something easy- it seemed the little blond summoned tact in the hockey player, a late start for the brash woman.

"Yes," she nodded, "_but_."

"But what?" Prompted Bella.

"But, I'm not sure I should. I mean, you're already..." she hesitated before adding in a pained whisper, "my people will hate you-"

"Why don't you let me worry about all that, Rosalie? I got thick skin, I told you that." Bella put her hands on the Russian's back as she turned away from her.

"They are strong i gordyy- um...proud? And you offend my people, you-you do not understand the Russians," the blond muttered, taking her head between her hands as she rested her weight against the palm rubbing soothing circles on her Team _Rossiya_ hoodie.

"Perhaps. But I know attention and I know what it's like to have people hate me, discriminate and stigmatize me, for no other reason than my sexual preferences, Rosalie. Do you think it was all fine and dandy for me when I came out back home? For weeks, I received death threats at home, people would send me disgusting things to scare me, to tell me that they think I'm an abomination, something that goes against nature...So please, don't tell me I don't understand anger or hatred."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. Still, in Russia, it is much difficult. For some years now, people have become more and more religious and with the new law...Violent, extremist groups are maiming people, just because they are dressed too gay or-"

"I get that, Princess, but they're still ignorant people who have nothing better to do than hate what they don't understand, mindless dumb fucks who have nothing to fight with but their fists. They mean nothing to me. And they shouldn't mean anything to you either. We can be smart, we can take every precaution you like, the question is are you willing to do it?"

The Russian said nothing for a few minutes, Bella thought that perhaps she was doing the same thing that she did, weighing the pros and cons of starting anything between them while the context was so heavily paralyzing for both of them. The way she saw it, it wasn't a question of betraying her country, she would never do that- not for all the gold or glory in the world- though she was perfectly aware that if the rumors got out, some people would jump to those conclusions and it would be easier for herself to defend her reputation under public scrutiny than the Russian, with the gay issue acting as a lead cloak, shrouding the country and its minds.

In many ways, Rosalie had it much worse than her, for her country and the power in place abhorred gay people to a degree she would like to think most Americans had long gone past. Her stakes were higher, Bella knew she would face negative reactions but she would wager that the majority would not be that offended- sure there would be outrage and doubt thrown her way, but she had become used to that by now;while the situation could potentially become explosive for her Slavic temptress. Vladimir Putin would, in all likelihood, not take kindly to a sexual dalliance- much less a relationship between them if he ever heard about it through his all knowing FSB grapevine. And his people were probably not going to wave LGBT flags in front of the Kremlin to force his hand.

"V poryadke- OK," Bella almost missed the whispers tumbling from her luscious lips while she reflected on their cluster fuck of a situation. "I want to but I don't know how. It's not that simple," the Russian tried again, "I told you-"

"Look, Rosalie, we're not gonna be afforded the luxury of doing the regular, attraction thing," Bella winced as she cut her off, "and dance around each other like any normal people. Shit, we both know that this little back and forth we've been doing these past few days won't cut it for much longer," she repeated, looking straight in those endless pools of blue. The myriads of emotions playing on the Russian's face were fascinating to watch, albeit a bit disconcerting for her. She could wax poetics about her beauty and the tragic part of it, but her silence was perhaps the most vibrant homage she could give, mesmerized as she was by the cluster fuck her life was turning into- on the sole account of a little blond who rolled her "r's", had quite the temper and apparently the power to stir up her hormones like no one before.

"I understand that it is complicated for you, hell I even get that you're unsure and I'm not asking for full on dirty fucking tonight, much less a proclamation of love tomorrow," Bella argued again, tired of the confusion that had settled over her mind these past few days. Their situation was complicated enough without doubting each second of everything, they needed to make choices. Hard ones, things that went beyond their own circumstances, but those decisions needed to be made. Harsh as it may seem, to make potentially life altering choices on the basis of attraction and a couple of interactions here and there, they needed to be proactive given the microscope they were under.

"I can give you all the time you need to wrap your head around your feelings, we can talk about it all night long if that will help make it better, I've got no problems with that, nor with being your first woman," Bella smiled at that, feeling a bit like an asshole- since when was she that type?- but kept focused and took a deep breath. "And I'm not trying to corner you, I appreciate how strange it must be for you, Princess," she added, "but what I can't do, however, is constantly have doubts about whether you do want to give this a try or not."

The Russian nodded, silently agreeing to her argument while the hockey player tried to justify what she was asking of the other athlete, just a day short of the grand beginning of their competition. "I'm probably being unfair, but I can't. And I won't. I need to be focused on my goals, I wasn't expecting to meet anyone here, and I know I sound like a fucking asshole," the Slavic blond grinned at the too frequent use of profanities punctuating her rants.

"You need to decide if this is worth it to you, Rosalie, risks and all. I need you to enter this with your eyes wide open. We both do, there is too much at stake for either of us to do it any other way, you understand? " She asked the pale woman in front of her.

Disbelief turned into understanding as the Russian skater mulled over her words. Hurt, confusion and uncertainty were etched all over her features as she tried to come up with some sort of an answer for the hockey player making her case in front of her.

"I- I...Bella," she sighed. The Russian, who had pushed their interactions first, going so far as to initiate their first kiss, was seemingly unable to word her thoughts after the other woman's plea.

"Look, if it's not, I will understand. We can forget each other, it will be as if I never existed, I know the stakes are much higher for you than they are for me. And I cannot promise you an easy ride, Princess, I won't lie to you." She laid her palm against the Russian's cheek, trying to enjoy every little moment the other would be so brave as to give her.

There was the double edged sword her own conscience had warned her about. The weight of a single little choice that should be simple in any other circumstances. Back home, she would have never thought about the future so early into something that wasn't even a something yet, but their situation demanded their caution, starting with the beginning of that something. Perhaps those obstacles standing in their paths would be too much to overcome in the end- and she would not bet on the Russian's decision to even try, but at least she had said her piece. Now, the ball was in her court. Bella could not have this status quo perpetually hanging over her head, likea swinging axe swaying over her Games. Such a state of indecision was not something she could cope with on a regular basis during competition, there was a reason for her media blackout before games and the reactions to their pictures were not really advocating any reconsideration on her part, hence her pseudo ultimatum to the other athlete. There were some facts that would remain unchanged, no matter what decision they made or didn't.

Yes, it would be complicated. No, their countries would probably not be ecstatic to see the dangerous liaison happen, but those were the facts they had to deal with. Neither Obama nor Putin would be celebrating the bridge both of them could build for their respective country through a relationship, an unwantedevidence that their people were not condemned to repeat the same patterns over and over again...

People would not be impressed with them, some would be offended, it would spark endless debate, controversy would follow them throughout their Games; and yes, it would be hard. The question, or rather the dilemma that was posed by their unique circumstances; as it was, remained the same.

The two athletes had to decide whether they were willing to take such risks and potentially compromise their future career if the controversy did not abate or worst, escalated. There would be repercussions, the American could see it plainly from where she stood. There had to be, it was politics, and the public opinion was of their countries would probably try to manipulate their situation to their advantage, she surmised, but all that was a part of the package deal they had to choose. Or not.

Sure, they could try to keep things quiet, be secretive, but no matter how much they put their minds to hiding the truth, it was bound to get out one day or another. She would not bet on much more than two days, what with all the cameras, people and multiple interferences they had to manage every day. Such were the joys of a world where everybody and their neighbors possessed a camera in their phones, broadening the scope of potential paparazzi to just about every single people out there.

Perhaps it would break them, and the embryo of a relationship they were building could not do anything else but fail. Those were all risks that they needed to take into account before they embarked on anymore secret meetings, or sneaked out in the middle of the night for stolen kisses when no one was looking. Just like she had said to the Russian, they knew most of the risks they would incur by seeing each other. Though before they even decided to play the game, it was imperative that they understood the rules.

For her part, Bella had already made her decision; she was willing to chance it, if the other woman wanted to. Just this once, she would leap for her. She had accepted most of their circumstances as they were, the things they could try to control and others that they would endure, it was just the way life went, in each things andso particularly in their case.

She would be patient with the Russian, introducing her slowly to her world, provided the other woman was willing. That was the core of her problems. While her decision had been made quite quickly- considering the amount of pressure it would put on her from that day forward; she could understand the other's hesitation. It seemed like an awfully hard leap of faith, for someone who showed no inclination for the same sex before in her life; she was well aware of that.

Despite those reservations, she had asked the blond to make her choice and take a stand, whether it be by her side or not. They were still at that step where things could be undone and hearts mended, but Bella knew that once she was in, there would be no getting out- not for her. If the Russian had captured her attention that much by now, it was significant. There was no halfway possible, she wanted to try, but she could not be the only one. And while dancing around one another could be fun, their circumstances were too difficult to prolong the uncertainty anymore and not clear the air between them.

"I can't. I want to, I do, but I don't think I can," Rosalie pulled Bella from her darkening thoughts.

"Why? Because you're afraid about your people's reaction?"

"Da, but not only-"

"Then what is it?"

"I have a...I-" she muttered under her breath, trying to look up, but not able to hold her eyes to the American's for long. She was hiding something, the hockey player had seen first hand how much she liked to keep her cards close to her vest, and she could only imagine how hard it must be for her to open up, though it was a necessity if they were to make some progress together. Their path would be hard enough without addingany more shitto their plate by being dishonest with each other. That thought popped again into her head, an easy justification- albeit true- to the hard choices she was demanding of her Slavic temptress. Gone were the days when she could get by with a Devil may care attitude, nowadays she had to contend with her PR team and the conflicting interests that sometimes arose between her public image, her own interests, those of her club or her national team, sometimes the burden put on athletes seemed endless though she knew she had an easy ride on the whole. She was skating for work and making money out of her passion, not working in a goddamn factory at the assembly line for fuck's sake- but still, it seemed like an awful lot of pressure rested on her shoulders sometimes.

"I'm going to need you to open up, Princess, otherwise that thing between us? It ain't gonna work," she tried to tell the struggling blond in front of her again, hammering her point home.

"YA znayu- I know. I-"

"Come on, Rose, what is it?"

"I have someone waiting for me back home," Rosalie gave her a sad little smile as she spoke, not even chastising the American for her second slip of tongue with the pet name, her eyes becoming bluer as they shone with emotion.

"W-What?" Bella was stunned for a second, not really sure that she heard the Russian right.

"I have someone waiting for me at home."

"Someone...A husband someone?" Bella asked, incredulous, as that had not crossed her mind for even a second, so focused that she was on the particular of their situation, completely forgetting the rules of dating 101. To her credit, it was that much unbelievable because the Russian had been the one to initiate their kiss and had seeked her out in the beginning.

"No, not really," Rosalie told her, a somber look on her face, while Bella was trying to wrap her mind around the concept of a '_not really _husband'.

"I have family," she said after a minute, "I can't take any chance with their safety. You don't understand, I-whatever I do, I must think about the repercussions it will have on them."

"I get that-"

"Do you? Do you know what they will do to my family if the media continue to publish articles about us? Is your government going to turn on you?" Rosalie asked, her fiery temper coming out to play once more. "Because that is what will happen to mine- me, if I step out of line," she tried to explain to the baffled American struggling to understand the depth of the repercussions their entanglement could have on her family. The US athlete had to admit that it was one parameter she had foreseen, but perhaps underestimated. Of course, she knew that it would have different consequences for them, and she was well aware that it would be easier for her than the Russian, yet she had convinced herself that, save for a public snub, and bad press, it wouldn't be so bad if they were proactive about it. They could anticipate and prepare, not just go through the motions.

"I understand. I do, it just means that we have to be more careful, that's all. Where do your family li-" she tried to argue.

"You still do not get it," Rosalie cut her off in a harsh tone, "my parents died a long time ago, in a car accident. Fifteen years ago, when Putin tried to access to the highest State functions, my papa was a journalist," the Russian explained as her eyes veiled under the weight of unshed tears. "He made it his life mission to prevent him from being dubbed Russia's next President, but never voted that year," a tear fell down her cheek but she wiped it angrily, staring intently at Bella.

Their respective countries had different political backgrounds and circumstances, verytrue; and while people might be upset back in the States, pressure would not be put on her family, at least not by her own damn government. Or she'd fucking hope so, for the sake of freedom and their damn constitution. Whereas Putin and its FSB cronies would not hesitate much before sending the cavalry to her little blond's doorstep, if they did not go any further than that. She had a much clearer picture of the Russian's hesitations, the dire consequences she would face if the powers that be smelled even a whiff of untoward behavior were not only career repercussions- that was only the tip of the iceberg- but the worst would affect her family.

There was no easy choice, and it all boiled down to that. Choices, decisions they had to make based on the slightest inkling they felt. Decisions that would affect their families, for the Russian even more so, but still, the hockey player knew that hers would be subjected to the gossip back home, the rumors, people wanting to get all the nitty gritty details of the scandal.

There were lives hanging on the balance, their family's and Putin- who had gambled his reputation on the most expensive Games in history- would not let them throw a wrench into his plan. He would not be satisfied until he had shown the extent of his power to the world and the true grandeur of his motherland. She knew the man had a stranglehold over the institutions, the President of the Russian Parliament was a close friend and supporter of his, the FSB swore fealty to the man- and they would bow down to his will, no matter the consequences. There was only one leader in the mighty Rossiya, a man with strength and skills, intelligence and a great propensity to capture the general public opinion and rally it against the humiliating West.

Hell, she wasn't even sure how her own country's intelligence agencies would greet the news, not to say anything about the Republicans. Hence the multiple precautions they owed their loved ones. They couldn't afford to make mistakes, it was not in their cards unfortunately. All the same, they could have left it at that, and content themselves with moving on, forgetting about each other in a heartbeat, yet neither of them seemed willing to let it go.

"So I know all about cost and risks," Rosaliereiterated, her tone cold as ice and her spine straightening, "my dedushka i babushka brought me up from that point. They live in Crimea, near the Russian border-"

"Dedushka i babushka? What does that mean?" Bella asked, one too many attempt to diffuse their tense situation, but also curious about the exotic language.

"It is the parents of my parents, I cannot remember how you say that in English," Rosalie scrunched up her eyebrows, attempting to come up with the right word to express her Russian idioms. It wasanother moment of lightness in a heavy conversation. So far, the language barrier seemed to provide enough humor to their lives to counteract the gravity surrounding them.

"Ah, your grandparents you mean. OK, babusha and dusha-"

"Niet, ne tak," the Slavic woman replied, her mother tongue overwhelming the American once again. "De-dush-ka i ba-bush-ka," she sounded each word out loud for the dubious foreigner.

"OK," she repeated the words, trying to get it right.

Once she had the Slavic seal of approval on her pronunciation, she went back on topic. "So, you're half Ukrainian?"

"Niet, full Russian. My family was there long before there was a Ukrainian country and my dedushka i ba- err...my grandparents still live there," Rosalie clarified. Such was the curse of countries created by the more or less arbitrary partition of war spoils between greater powers, political gestures given against a nuke or two back then here, or a temporary cease fire there.

"Alright, so it complicates things, but you had to know from the get go that it would not be easy, no? Or did you just kiss me for the heck of it? True, it's another damn complication to add to our plate, Princess, but we can deal with it. Where did the bitchy little fighter I met the first day go? I-"

"No, you still do not get it, do you? I have a...ugh," she groaned, the frustration plain to see in her shifting stance. "U menya yest' doch'-"

"English, pozhaluysta," Bella winked at Rosalie, trying to alleviate her annoyance with the small bit of Russian knowledge she possessed. It worked and she got a smile in return, tinted with that air of sadness she was still getting used to.

The other woman shifted her stance and heaved a deep breath.

"I have a daughter"

******R****ussian 101 :**

******Russkiy syurpriz ****Russian surprise**

******Chto my delayem? Ya khochu...****W****hat are we doing? I want...**

******No**** = But**

******Niet**** = No**

******Da**** = Yes**

******Epoch ****Why**

******YA ne sobirayus' zanimat'sya seksom s vami ****= I'm not going to have sex with you**

******i gordyy**** = and proud**

******Rossiya**** = Russia**

******V******** poryadke****= alright**

******Yebat'**** = Fuck**

******YA znayu****= I know**

******Niet, ne tak**** = No, not like that**

******D****edushka i babushka****= grandparents**

******U menya yest' doch'****= I have a daughter**

******P****ozhaluysta****= please**


	10. Chapter 10

**From Russia With Love**

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say.****** Enjoy & thanks for reading. **

******I own nothing but my ideas and words, everything else belongs to its rightful owner.**

**Special thanks to those who put my story on alert/favorite and to my reviewers. I'm still astonished at your enthusiam for my little story****. ****I appreciate your support, just as much as I like hearing your take on the plot and any criticism or comment you might have. **

******s********etchan-1995 – ****Ah, ah sorry ( no really I'm not :****D**** )...A little cliffhanger here and there keeps you on your toes. Thank you and welcome to the other side lol and thanks for making me notice the bold letters, I fixed it as soon as I got your review.**

**Leslie Atwood – ****Thanks! Damn, she's half Russian and you don't even get a little role play accent? That's just not right :)**

******FaberryBRA – ****:****D :P I need a smiley to wave, that'd be useful ;)**

******Kara-24**** – ****Really? Not even as an interjection? Well damn sorry, the mighty translator failed me lol. How would you say it? I might be stretching the truth sometimes, but I remember Anna Politkovskaia, Sergei Yushenkov, Galina ****Starovoytova or Alexander Litvinenko, to name only a few...I didn't quite get the next bit, do you mean that he won by eliminating the opponents? Sorry, fucking translator isn't cooperating properly. Anyways thank you, hope you'll like this one.**

******Zelda's Hero**** – ****I'd say I'm sorry for the cliffhanger but I'd be lying :) Yeah, many would share that opinion, though the intelligence of the man is to win public opinion in Russia and I'm afraid he's not going anywhere anytime soon...neither in real life nor in this story, sorry, he's already three moves ahead of us ;)**

******alana94xx ****= Thank you, I'm glad you still like it. Here you go, let me know what you think :)**

******Akasha Hallows28 – ****T****hank you so much, ****hope you like this one.**

******BehindTheEyes**** = Wow, thank you for the compliments! You can't see it, but I was grinning like a lunatic after reading your review, hopefully I won't disappoint.**

******L.L.L ****– ****Ah ah, thanks! I love your enthusiasm :) and I hope it continues that way lol**

******hopelessromantic34**** = Just as I hoped, thank you.**

******Jamie**** – ****Evil me wanted to ****do a little victory dance when I wrote it :) Thanks**

******vertigo123**** – ****Ah ah, you might be surprised :) Thank you! I suppose it is true, mostly because Bella has enjoyed a lot more freedom than Rosalie did so far. And it's harder to be open minded and think positive when Putin's iron fist is holding everyone in a stranglehold. Tell me how you liked this chapter?**

******CatchingStar**** = I laughed out loud at your review, you're right, and it would be so much easier...but then I wouldn't have much of a story to tell lol **

******lurryforever ****= No one you know yet, but I promise some known characters are coming back next chapter and we will meet some familiar faces who have not popped up in this story yet. And I agree :D**

******niyadddy****Yep, I did it :) but in my defense this story was always gonna be more complicated (and did I mention it's far from over yet?lol). Do not worry, you're not cursed, or at least I had no hand in it, there is no first review curse attached to this story :D Thank you so much, I hope you like this chapter.**

******Piccolodian ****You might be surprised...Or not...I'm not saying anything, just keep reading :) ****And it actually applies to the second part of your review as well lol I don't wanna spoil your fun ;)**

******koolawantxox4u****= Ah, ah, sorry? :)**

******Jay aka Jordan ****= Yes she does, and I gotta say I love the reactions I got from it...You know her better than that ;)**

******Lost Twilight**** = Thank you so much!****This is gonna be a bumpy ride, so buckle up ;) Hopefully you'll like where this is going...**

******Guest**** = Thank you. Ah ah, I'm not saying anything yet, but you'll find out eventually, tell me what you think of this one?**

******t********lc125****= You're welcome. I know, I don't know why but I suppose it comes and goes and it serves my purpose so far- that's not to say that it won't change...Is it strange for you?lol Thank you so much, yes she has more at stakes than Bella, hence her timid rebuff. Perhaps not the side one might have thought, but hey, I'm not inside of your brain so maybe you'll anticipate her correct reactions...Read and find out ;) Thanks for taking the time to review, it is much appreciated!**

******[chapter ********10******** – ********American ********Bravery********]**

Four words and fourteen letters, that's all it took to throw Bella's world off its axis.

"What?"

"I have a daughter," Rosalie said timidly, looking into Bella's eyes with apprehension as she dropped her bombshell on the astounded American. No sound could be heard in the locker room whilst both women were staring at each other. One of them was shifting her stance from side to side, her anxiety obvious to Bella, still in shock over that little sentence.

"A-A daughter?" Bella croaked before clearing her throat meekly.

"Yes," the blond mumbled as her cheeks reddened and she watched the surprise register into the hockey player's face.

That was a game changer for Bella. Shit, she had expected the complications- even though she had perhaps underestimated the consequences it would have on the Russian's family- but a child changed everything. She wasn't even ready for that for fuck's sake. There was enough troubles for them already without a tiny little life hanging in the balance.

"Fuck," Bella whined out loud, her mind going a mile a minute as it tried to process the curve ball that had been thrown to her.

"Mne o-ochen' zhal'" Rosalie started to stutter, reaching out with her hand for the hockey player who started pacing in front of her.

"But...But-You're too young- how?" Bella cut her off, too unsettled to stall her own damn questions and wait for an explanation."I mean, obviously you're not- and I know how, scratch that-but...I didn't expect that." The hockey player's tone faltered, she took her head into her hands, too incredulous to even think about the implications of that impromptu revelation.

"I'm sorry," the Russian said softly, "I had to tell you. You-you need to understand that whatever I do will impact her life-"

"Shit, I get that, Princess. I do, I'm just...Fuck, you do know how to keep me on my toes," she lifted her head up and shook it a bit, back and forth, as if to clear the fog of frustration, anguish and helplessness threatening to overtake her mind.

"It's okay, eto," Rosalie sighed, "it- it was not a good idea anyway" she added with sadness heavy in her tone, her blue eyes turning stormy gray under the weight of the moment. "I understand," she stated with resignation. She turned her back on Bella and slowly backed away, taking a first step towards the door then another under the American's tormented eyes. Jolted into action at their own damn pattern about to repeat itself like an endless loop, she lunged for her arm, halting the other woman's escape.

"Whoa, back up a minute Princess," Bella reached for her hand and tugged her closer to her own body. "What can you understand when I haven't even processed that little bomb you just dropped on me?"

The Russian sighed, smiling as a tear escaped her eye again, her features contorted with that strange mix of melancholy and resignation the American was starting to get familiar with. She could have lamented over the fact that their several encounters had been full of those looks so far but that would have done nothing but make her mind spin further into depression. She felt inclined to be positive, an attitude their mother had drilled into her kids, maybe just as much as politeness. Even when she hit her rebellious teenage years, she was never that girl who spent her time deciding whether she would slit her wrists or not, a testimony to her good adjustment capacities.

There had to be something they could do, no matter how unsolvable their circumstances might seem. She could almost hear her mom's voice in her head, whispering her mantra to her- each problem has a solution, but as Bella watched Rosalie, she understood the other woman was expecting nothing but rejection from her. Truth be told, she wasn't prepared for something of that magnitude, and no she did not expect it, hence her astonishment- but was there ever a right moment for that kind of news? Her dating history was limited enough, of course she didn't have any chapter on people with kids.

The athlete never really paid them attention and perhaps she'd go as far as to say that it usually acted as some kind of deterrent effect on her. Not that she had a problem with them, she loved her nephews and her niece to death, but at the end of the day, she wasn't responsible for their well being or their education- and that was a heavy burden the American was not sure she'd be able to shoulder, yet. Thus she avoided any complication. That included entanglements with married people, and all the more so those who had kids. Yet not even that seemed enough to keep her away from the Russian player.

"Hey," she lifted Rosalie's chin with her fingers, wanting her complete attention. "I'll admit that you stunned me for a while there, but it doesn't change how I feel," Bella said with tenderness to the flustered blond in her arms, "you intrigue me," she added as the Russian snorted in answer.

Hell, what was a child when one considered the FSB, the Cold War and generations of anonymous people hating each other on the basic principle of prejudice?

She would need time to properly move on from that shock and what it meant, yet she was still not experiencing any change of heart, as crazy as it was even for her. The draw was still there, difficult circumstances be damned. And provided her little blond did not have anything else to spring on her, she would try to understand how a child could even figure out into their equation much later. She just couldn't deal with that now.

"So, you got a daughter, OK," Bella nodded, "I'll-I'm gonna need some time to process that-"

"I understand, I didn't...ya prosto- I don't even know what I want," the Russian grunted. "Ya prosto zaputalsya-"

"Net ponyat'" Bella interrupted, mustering her better Russian for the occasion, though she couldn't go past her first two words before the blond corrected her.

"Nepravil'no, eto '_ya ne ponimayu_'" There was something to be said about the Slavic language, it was beautiful, rough and strong yet melodic, but it was getting her nowhere.

"Rosalie," she said in a stern tone, her patience wearing thin as the revelations of the day were starting to catch up with her. The Slavic language doing nothing to help clear her mind and think properly.

"I know" the Russian's voice took a particularly high pitch, her breathing impeding her speech ability, just not as much as her annoyance given their situation- still standing in the middle of an absurdly white, clinical locker room with a strange blend of scents, part sweat and part chemicals; not the ideal location for a heart to heart, most people would concede.

"I- eto razocharovaniye...um...frustrating?" She asked, meeting Bella's eyes with her own apprehensive, inquiring stare. "I want one thing when I know I should not," Rosalie whispered, her voice barely audible in the silence enveloping them.

Bella smiled to her, apparently at loss for words. They watched one another for a while, neither of them moving an inch nor speaking, the Russian seemed content to stay stoic, a picture of poise mirroring the great Slavic heroines of yesteryear.

"Maybe you should try again, just to make up your mind," Bella smirked at her blushing Russian, "or you could tell me about your kid?"

Rosalie frowned but that seemed to do the trick, the blond got some color back into her cheeks and relaxed into the foreigner's arm slowly as she told Bella all about her daughter.

"She's five years old soon, her name is Kira-"

"Ki-ra" Bella tried it out, repeating each syllable to the best of her ability. "Do you have a picture?"

Rosalie reached for the front pocket of her hoodie and took out her red phone. She swiped her thumbs over the screen a few times and shoved it under the American's nose, "here."

The hockey player watched with caution, almost afraid of what she would find on the screen. She had experienced that awkward moment one too many times with parents showing off pictures of their offspring, only to find strange faces staring back at her. She was lucky enough for once, she soon realized as she looked upon a cute little blond smiling from ear to ear. The child was a perfect mini me for the Russian beauty, complete with the blond ringlets framing an adorable, chubby face.

"Cute kid," she commented as she passed the phone back to the smiling Russian who nodded.

"I think so too but she is mine, I am...err...Na menya okazyvayut vliyaniye...I'm- um...prejudiced?"

"You're biased, you mean," Bella corrected.

"Da. Biased, that's the one I was looking for. Khorosho, now you know."

"And I'm still not running away. Though I should, fuck knows why-"

"Why?" She cut her off, wringing her hands together.

"How about a little truth, Princess?" Bella asked. "Here, I'll start. For some crazy reason, I'm attracted to you," Rosalie snorted but Bella continued, "and apparently you turn me into a blubbering fool, so yeah," she admitted, embarrassed at her own lack of finesse. "And your daughter? Surprisingly enough, not even that little bomb is doing anything to solve that. There. Now your turn," Bella smirked to the Russian, an arrogant façade to cover up her sweating palms and the thundering beat of her heart as she laid her heart bare for her Slavic temptress.

Rosalie turned her head away from her, and took a few steps back, refusing to look at her as she spoke. Compulsively clutching the sleeves of her team hoodie with her hands, she held her stiff posture for a while, pacing back and forth a few meters away from the American.

"You want truth?" She muttered under her breath, still struggling with her words it seemed, as she stumbled on the last syllable with her heavy Slavic accent. "You're the first woman I- I am attracted to- and I..." she sighed, rubbing her hands against her neck and shoulders to soothe the growing ache she felt deep in her bones.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Because I wanted to," Rosalie turned to Bella at the question, smiling while she gave her simple answer, "I had to try."

"And?" The hockey player took a step towards the Russian, watching her expression falter and her cheeks redden as the embarrassment seemed to settle in her face. "What conclusion did you draw from your little experiment, lyubimaya?" She taunted Rosalie in her mother tongue, the Slavic word tinged with a deep voice as she stood closer to her feisty blond. The Russian gasped at the sensual tone and looked intently into her deep brown eyes, mesmerizing Bella with that heavy stare of hers- full of promises, confusion and still, that lingering sadness.

"And...Argh..." Rosalie frowned, "chert poberi," she swore, "I- I liked it," she admitted, avoiding her gaze to the side.

Bella smirked cockily to the other woman, laying her hand against her back as she dipped her head to brush her nose against Rosalie's. "I know you did, Princess," she winked and watched the deep red flare across the soft, alabaster skin.

"You did not," objected the Russian, though her eyes closing and the soft sigh she let out did nothing but encourage Bella to keep pushing.

"Look at me, Rosalie," she demanded and watched the Russian open her eyelids to fix her stare on her, baby blue eyes clouded with lust whilst trembling hands laid on Bella's arm. "I'm going to kiss you, so now would be a good time to stop me if that's not what you want," she said softly.

Rosalie sighed but never moved an inch, prompting Bella to move her lips against hers as she flicked her tongue to the Russian's plump bottom lip. Opening her mouth, she moaned as Bella took control over her tongue, passionately responding to the American's assault, her hands moving up to her shoulders- an unconscious move to mold her body to the hockey player, getting closer to the source of her conflicted emotions while their tongues battled together in a sensual dance.

Bella backed her towards the wall, pushing Rosalie's back against it as her fingers were skimming over her skin, barely touching her sides up and down with the tip of her digits, slowly trailing against the supple skin of her shoulder, her breast and her waist, then the curve of her hip. Rosalie shivered while the taller brunette spread her legs with her knee, entangling their bodies much closer in the heat of their desire. Bella pushed the Russian with her weight to feel and fight, to push and prod, she wanted to see that feisty little temper of hers come out and play.

She wasn't disappointed, for Rosalie was all that and more. She was an eager first timer apparently, if the sounds she made were any indication. The tiny moans blended together in Bella's mind, echoing every bit of lust she felt at that moment. Rosalie gripped her braided hair with her fingers and pulled on it, eliciting a groan from the hockey player at the rough play.

Never one to be outdone, Bella bit her bottom lip lightly, tugging on it and swiping her tongue against it to soothe the red, bruised mouth, releasing it with a thin sliver of saliva still hanging between them. She captured Rosalie's mouth again for a last quick kiss before letting her breathe, laying her forehead against the Russian's as they tried to rest their heaving chests. Both women were trying to catch their breaths as they watched each other; admiring the lust in their eyes, that thirst for one another only desire could produce.

Heartbeats were thudding against their ribcage, wild looks and heavy stares exchanged for a moment suspended in time- something that was only theirs to share, the passion of the first days, realizing you have that deep hunger for someone, trying to quench it until you have nothing left but pleasure and for once, Bella felt something more.

She had experienced passion before, hell she was no stranger to fucking and had sexual trysts from time to time, but nothing like that. Ever. Her body was responding more to the Russian than any other woman she had ever been with, there was that thread that pulled her to the other, that deep nagging she had felt ever since they had met which only Rosalie seemed to soothe.

At first, it was an annoying inkling she tried to stop, but now, it felt bigger. That was a strange feeling, frightening yet exciting, hovering over the deep end for a moment too long before leaping. Shit, she was so fucking screwed, she thought as she watched her little spitfire and the lust written all over her beautiful face.

"Well one thing we know for sure, Princess," Bella grinned to her flushed Russian, "we got chemistry alright," she winked as the other laughed, granting her a full blown smile in her flushed face.

"Svyatoye der'mo!" She giggled, something that delighted the American. Even if she was still lost in translation, she supposed she'd have to get used to it, and frankly, if she could get that reaction to a kiss with her Slavic beauty, she couldn't wait to see her writhing under her body all night long- now that would be a sight for sore eyes. Rosalie was glowing, there was no other word to qualify the pleasure written on her face, and Bella was treated to what seemed like a rare occurrence for the figure skater who appeared to be so tightly in control of her emotions to the outside world- and yes, a bit of an epic bitch sometimes. Bella wrapped a strand of blond hair around her finger and played with it, tugging it behind Rosalie's ear after a while.

"It was good," Rosalie commented, "but I need to get back to practice," she added with regret lacing her tone.

"Just good? Fuck, Princess, it was more than that-"

"Zakhvatyvayushchiy...Um...Spectacular?" The Russian teased, smirking at Bella who laughed.

"That's more like it, yeah," the hockey player smiled arrogantly while Rosalie just rolled her eyes at the satisfied, proud American still holding her close.

"Tomorrow, after the opening ceremony, can we meet?" Rosalie asked, fidgeting for a second, "We need to discuss how we are doing this,"

"Oh so we're doing it, now?" Bella teased, fucking ecstatic that the other would be willing to risk it. "Sure, I'll try to see if Aro can bring me here, would that be OK for you? I figure it will be safer, we both have a reason to be here, so it shouldn't look suspicious-"

"I will try and be here. It is best, da," the Russian nodded, eagerly agreeing to Bella's tentative draft of a plan.

"Alright. Can I have your number, Princess?"

"I think you will have to work for it, isn't that what you Amerikos say?" Rosalie countered with snark.

"Oh come on, Rosalie. Don't play hard to get, Princess, it's gonna be difficult enough as it is," Bella argued as she mustered the most innocent, pleading look she could project for her little Russian's benefit and try to soften her up. That was a side she had yet to see, playful yet sarcastic Russian. "Besides, you never know when you could want a repeat of...how did you put it again?" She baited her Slavic blond with a smile, only half joking, "ah yes, _spectacular_, isn't it?"

"So you can kiss, bol'shoye delo! We will see what else you can do." Rosalie retorted with a challenging look on her face, that glint in her blue eyes daring Bella to do something.

She tugged the Russian against her body once more, delighting in the feeling of her curves pressing to her own and whispered, "whatever you want, Princess," before biting her earlobe and soothing the tender flesh with her tongue, making Rosalie gasp. She kissed her neck next, laying butterfly kisses and quick licks here and there to hear her Russian moan. She disentangled herself from Rosalie the moment she gave her what she wanted, that low thrum of her voice which told her she liked the attention. Bella left her bereft, still dazed and confused, with her eyes half closed and her mouth open.

"That was no fair," the Russian shook her head and frowned as she watched Bella step back from her with a grin on her face.

"All's fair in love and war, Princess," she winked, "come on, do I have to beg for that number?" Bella asked, cocky smirk back in its place as she faced her little Slavic temptress.

Rosalie smiled before relenting, giving it to her and getting the American's digits into her phone before they separated with a promise to meet the next day, after the opening ceremony.

As she was leaving the ice rink that night, Bella felt hopeful. Maybe it was foolish, to hope and actually try to believe that she could have it all, get the girl and the gold, but she would fight. Politics and rivalry be damned, she was dead set on getting her way, no matter how many pitfalls threatened her path. And so far? Neither her determination nor bravery had ever failed her.

******R****ussian 101 :**

******Mne ochen' zhal' = ****I'm sorry**

******Ya prosto ****= I'm just**

******Ya prosto zaputalsya**** = I'm just confused**

******Nepravil'no, eto : '****_ya ne ponimayu'_****= Wrong, it's '****_I don't understand_****' **

******Eto razocharovaniye**** = It is frustrating**

******Na menya okazyvayut vliyaniye ****= I'm biased**

******khorosho****= well**

******Chert poberi ****= Damn it**

******lyubimaya ****= darling**

******Svyatoye der'mo !****= Holy shit!**

******Zakhvatyvayushchiy****= spectacular**

******Amerikos**** = Russian derogatory term for Americans**

******bol'shoye delo****= big deal!**


	11. Chapter 11

**From Russia With Love**

I always appreciate feedback...Good, bad or in between, I want to hear what you have to say.****** Enjoy & thanks for reading. **

******I own nothing but my ideas and words, everything else belongs to its rightful owner.**

**Special thanks to those who put my story on alert/favorite and to my reviewers. ****I'm ****still very much ****a****maz****ed that people l****ike it! ****I appreciate your support, just as much as I like hearing your take on the plot and any criticism or comment you might have. **

******koolawantxox4u**** – ****Guilty as charged :P Thanks, ****tell me what you think of this one?**

**Leslie Atwood – ****Thank you. Damn I feel for you, that's just plain cruel. Make a birthday wish out of it? Or when all else fails, beg :D**

******Juiny24-L.L.L**** – A waving arms smiley, exactly what I needed lol Thanks, hope you'll like this one.**

******s********etchan-1995 – ****Ah ah, thank you! I'm so glad you'd think so. I know, grammar isn't my best friend lol but I'm constantly trying to improve so thanks for noticing :) And really I love that you would have those reactions to my little brainchild. **

******Theoneandonlyts –**** Thanks, I think so too. This one is less intense but needed.**

******Jay aka Jordan – ****Really? Ah ah, coincidences...Yes I did ;) She's too cocky for her own good.**

******Tigerforce – ****Thank you so much, I'm glad you like it. Yes she does, I won't reveal too much but she will play a role in this story, she's not just a plot line I'm throwing at you, don't worry. Maybe not as soon as you'd like, but she will. Thanks, this one is quieter but I hope you'll like it nevertheless.**

******Elliehandesu**** – ****Ah, ah thank you :)**

******CatchingStar******** – ****And you're blowing my mind with your compliments, just sayin'**

******Niqo**** – I'm secretly a ninja, did I not mention that before? Lol I'm glad I threw a little curveball at you, there's nothing worst than seeing everything coming from a mile away... How you flatter me :) Thanks, I'm so thrilled you'd feel it as I write it. I can't tell you that yet, you'll have to read and find out. **

******Kara-24**** – ****Ah, OK, I didn't know. My bad :) I'm not sure I got everything there, but thank you for clarifying. I'm bound to make other mistakes but please don't hesitate to point them out. I can't reveal where she will be yet, and they will meet at one point or another. Thanks, it will!**

******Jamie******** – ****I think so too but I'm biased...she's not always gonna be the prim and proper one, you'll see. Thank you for your kind words.**

******Paula**** – Hi, thanks, welcome on board :) I did past the 7****th**** and I will edit them sooner or later, don't worry ;)**

******niyadddy**** – ****Thanks! Ah ah, not just yet I'm afraid. Bella is good but not that good. If everything goes to plan I should write part of the details, maybe not everything but a good portion of it. It won't be just a pretext for their relationship don't worry, how much details will depend on the inspiration of the moment and about the same can be said for lemons. I want to write them, or at least delve into it but I can't predict just how far it will go. Sometimes writing comes easily and other times it can be tricky, I want the plot to go in such a way but cannot write it effectively etc anyways you'll just have to wait and see :)**

******piccolodian –****Thank you, I think so too, she should do it more often :D blame the Russian temper ;) **

******FaberryBRA – ****How about this one \O/ lol**

******Beautywithoutabeast**** – Wow, thank you! Hope you'll like this one too.**

******tlc125**** – ****And I loved your review, thanks! I'm glad you're feeling passionate about this story and their fight. They'll need all the positive vibes they can get. And yes I think so too, besides they're both adults, trying to think ahead and have some sort of a plan, they're being smart yet it might not be enough...Ah ah that's a fair assessment :) Thank you for your kind words, I love reading them and it motivates me to keep going. To know that it means something to someone other than me is incredibly mind blowing, believe me.**

******lurryforever – ****Ah ah, love your enthusiasm but not so quick, there are still plenty of obstacles in their way ;) Thank you for your support, it means a lot :)**

******OntheHill – ****You're not wrong, but at least one of them is optimistic- foolish some might say to believe it's possible...He did, but in the spur of the moment, one is never really careful. She will make mistakes, she's gonna fuck things up and it goes both ways. But she's pretty much a big believer of your last sentence, why worry about things one has no control over? Best roll with it. **

******someoneawesome – H****ere you go, thank you so much :)**

******vertigo123**** – ****Not so fast, young padawan :) trouble is never that far from them...Thank you, I'm glad you still like it, I've warned people before, but it's not gonna be easy nor quick. I feel the same way and this story will be longer than most so I don't have to rush it. Tell me what you think of this one? **

******[chapter ********1********1******** – ********Family Matters********]**

The next day, after five hours of uninterrupted training before the opening night, the hockey player rested in her room for an hour or so until the big shenanigan started. Her phone disturbed her nap, that damn alarm blaring every three minutes like clockwork no matter how many times she pushed the ignore button. She sprung to her feet, not even half aware yet fully conscious that she wasn't supposed to snooze off right about now.

Bella stretched a bit on the bed, making her sore joints crack as she yawned and took off naked for the adjoining relaxed under the hot spray of the luxurious shower, one of the best features she was granted complimentary of the room, unlike her fellow teammates who had to settle for sharing a smaller en-suite bathroom. Washing her hair twice to cleanse it of the sweat she had accumulated during training all day, she squeaked audibly when her phone started beeping furiously. Swearing out loud, Bella reached for the towel she had left besides the shower door and grabbed the beeping device.

She swiped her fingers on the screen a few times, unlocking it to check her unread text messages. Smiling, she opened her brother's latest text to find a simple sentence staring back at her: "_nicely done, B! Sam says great boobs ;)_"

Scrolling down, she watched the next one, "_Can you talk? We're home. PS: Edward is gonna KILL you!_"

She had barely written a word when her cellphone rung, half panicking as she got out of the shower, still wet, dripping all over the carpet while she danced around, balancing her phone while she dried herself.

"Yeah?" She took the call, without paying attention to the name on her screen, hoping to God that it wouldn't be James.

"Hello, darling," greeted her Mom's soft voice on the other end of the line.

"Hi, Mom," she replied enthusiastically while she put on her panties and its matching brat, her breath coming out harder with the contortions she imposed to her body.

"Don't you 'hi mom me', young lady,' her Mom could cut the niceties off like no one's business.

"Um...OK, then...What did I do this time?" Bella asked innocently, knowing perfectly well just how bad it must be back home for her mom, who more or less despised the TV and preferred gardening to lazing around the house, to know all about her crazy Russian adventures.

"Why is it, lately, that every person with a broadband connection knows more about your life than your own mother?"

Oh shit, Bella grimaced. Nothing good ever came out of that tone of voice, Bella mused in silence. Her Mom could scare a serial killer with a raise of eyebrows and her intonations, the woman could have been an Army General with the way she kept her kids in line.

"So you heard?" she asked timidly to her Mom.

"Of course, baby, it's all over the news," sighed her mother over the line.

"Shit, I-"

"Language, Isabella-"

"Hi, kid," her father interrupted his wife to make his presence known and greet his daughter.

"Hey, dad."

"How are you holding up, kiddo?" Her Dad inquired, his first question, as always. Her parents were always worried about their only girl. She lead the most public life out of all their children, and the scrutiny it drew constantly on their child weighed down heavily in – on their minds. Her father was the most enthusiastic of them all, regarding her career as an athlete, and she knew that sometimes, he would worry that he had pushed her too much.

Being a parent was hard work, there was no guarantee whatsoever that they would not screw up the lives of their children with their choices and they had to deal with this ongoing concern for their kids, every day along the wild ride that was parenthood.

"I'm OK, Dad, thanks. How about you guys?"

"Good, good. Your Mom woke me up at five in the morning though-" Carlisle started in a tired voice, only to be cut off by his exuberant spouse.

"Shush, honey, we don't matter darling," Esme started, "I want you to explain, please," she finished with gentleness. "Is it true?"

Bella sighed, but said nothing for a while, trying to muster up the courage to fess up to her parents.

"Bella? Come on, sweetheart, talk to us," encouraged her father.

"I- it's..." She groaned out loud, "Yes, OK?"

Her mother gasped while her father swore before being reprimanded by his wife.

"I mean- they're blowing it out of proportion, Mom- I haven't done anything but follow her-" Bella tried to plead her case, stuttering her way through a clarification she owed her parents.

"Oh I know, sweetheart," her Mom told her, oddly calm as her father simultaneously exclaimed "not really pleading your case there, darling." "Stop it, Carlisle, I know my child and she might be a lot of things but she's not a stalker," Esme said with force.

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, mother," Bella laughed bitterly, "I know the picture look bad, but they just...interpreted it to fit their narrative. I surprised her security agents, they overreacted and bam, I was on the floor," her voice quavered with frustration-irritation, a sign Bella's parents did not welcome.

"So?" Prompted her Mom impatiently.

"So we met a few days ago, don't know...I- she...She was intriguing, she..." Bella stopped herself at that, not really knowing how to explain her inner turmoils to her own parents, "I like her," she softly admitted.

"Jesus, Bella," her Dad groaned, "OK? What about the picture?" he asked, trying to move things along as Esme kept silent, mulling over her daughter's fluster explanation-words.

"We just...Look guys, I was- we started talking together...And she fled, so I guess...I-" Bella tried to answer truthfully- tried to stick as close to the truth as possible in her fumbling explanation,over the roaring laughter of her Dad, echoing on the other end of her phone.

"Carlisle! Now, please, no more nonsense-Get a hold of yourself, for God's sake," Esme scolded her husband to no avail, for he could not seem to refrain his fit of giggles.

"Ah ah, Dad, laugh it up." He couldn't stop laughing as she continued, "it's not funny, I just-"

"Oh sweetheart, I get it just fine. You went after her didn't you?" Carlisle asked, controlling his guffaws at last.

"You're your father's daughter baby, no doubt about it," added her Mom in an amused tone.

There was hushed whispers between her parents as she smiled at their behavior, not that she could see, but she knew them well.

"Do you want to hear what happened or not?" She demanded, only teasing her parental unit as they voiced their agreement, her dad commenting pretty fast, "you obviously caught up with her."

"Yes, daddy dearest, I did. And that's about it. Her security details threw me down on the ground when I tried to grab her arm to stop her, hence the pictures you saw plastered all over the news," she admitted to her parents- not needing the reiterated laughter of her Dad to realize just how careless she had been.

"CNN said her name was Rosalie, right?" Queried her Mom with interest to change the subject and quell her spouse's mirth.

"Yes-"

"It's huge here, darling. They even talked about it on The View. Whoopi Goldberg said it was romantic, she's gushing about you, baby. She's a figure skater, yes?" Trust her Mom to interrogate the hell out of her. Bella had figured that she'd be much more apprehensive about it, though she was also a hopeless romantic at heart, so her obvious interest wasn't that much of a surprise to her hockey player of a daughter and it made her smile at her kind heart once more. No bragging but hands down, her Mom had the most gentle soul of them all yet she could be fierce and protective, when her kids were concerned and even a bit authoritarian with her husband when needed.

"Yes darling, if Whoopi Goldberg said so," her Dad teased, mocking his wife with a tenderness only years of a life spent together could bring two persons.

"Yes, Mom, she's a figure skater-"

"And a Russian," interjected her Dad.

"That she is, yes," she conceded, sighing heavily.

"Are you sure that you should, baby? I mean...the media are already making it breaking news, I don't want you to get hurt, darling-"

"Esme, she's an adult, let her-"

"Don't tell me I can't give any advice to my child, Carlisle." Her mom scolded him, prompting the both of them to resort to their usual bickering.

Bella tuned them out for a while as she got off her bed where she laid in her underwear, to get a bottled water from the minibar. They continued for a minute or two before focusing on her again.

"Did you speak with your brother?" Her father asked as she bit her nails out of anxiety.

"Which one?"

"Edward, he should be working on-"

"I know, Dad. We've texted back and forth, he's already on it, don't worry."

"OK, good. So maybe you should just avoid her- that is assuming you want to see her again, yes?"

She heaved a deep breath but said nothing as she tried to think of a way to explain her feelings to her parents without sounding careless or nonchalant.

"Yes, I will see her again-" she settled for the simple truth.

"You need to be careful, Isabella," her Mom interjected.

"I know, Mom and I will," she started but this time her phone beeped, alerting her to a double call she was receiving. She checked the screen to see who was trying to reach her and saw Emmett's face. "Listen, Mom, Dad, Em's calling and I want to say hi before the ceremony. I will call you later, yes?"

"Fine, sweetheart, please be safe, we love you," Esme answered in her placating, motherly, 'I'm worried but I'm trying to be strong' tone.

"Yes and good luck for tonight, baby," she answered as her Dad shouted "don't trip, break a leg, and wave," over the line.

"Yes Mom, thanks Dad. I love you guys too. I'll try to call tomorrow, bye."

She switched calls and reached for an apple she had found, hidden behind the cereals stand, this morning at breakfast, biting it as she answered.

"Hi Em," she greeted her younger brother.

"Hey, B, are you ready for tonight?" asked her boisterous, juvenile sibling. "Sam is watching CNN, did you know they're going to have a camera focused on you the whole time?" He added with such cheer in his voice one would have thought he was talking about the Super Bowl or something, but no, the little brat just seemed to take great pleasure in her misery.

"Fuck, just what I need," she exclaimed, not that surprised but still very much annoyed with the news Emmett had just delivered to her. "Is it that bad?" She asked apprehensively.

"Hell, Bells, they've been talking about it non stop all day-"

"Great," Bella sighed, laying her head against her bedroom window, loving the view before her eyes, with all the lights in the night, illuminating the buildings up until the Caucasian Black Sea port.

"Don't worry, B, it will blow over soon," her little brother tried to reassure, finally sympathetic to his older sister's precariousposition in the limelight.

"Yeah, I wouldn't be so sure about that, Em, but thanks for trying," Bella answered softly.

She heard her little brother grunt over the line before he let out a deep breath, swearing out loud while she listened to the noise surrounding him. She could hear her brother-in-law saying something to Emmett, but could not decipher what it was on her end.

"Holy shit, B-"

"Yeah, you got that right," she cut him off before he screamed her ear out again.

"No, I- I meant holy shit, Putin is giving a press conference about you I think" Emmett cried out.

"What?" She rushed to the other side of her room, grabbing the remote for the small TV set she had in a corner of her room.

Turning it on, the hockey player did not have to channel surf endlessly in the hope of finding it much longer, for it appeared to be on every one of them.

There stood Vladimir Putin with his stern figure, scrutinizing eyes and severe tone. Her brother was speechless, but she could hear bribes of her language over there, translating the intervention given by Russia's President.

"What is he saying?." She asked, full of anxiety as she watched the images with a dose of morbid fascination, suspecting what he would say. Her worst fears were playing out before her eyes yet a part of her could not believe it happened so fast.

"What the- FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE," her brother's lover, Sam, yelled as they turned the volume louder on their screen, allowing Bella to hear the American translator as clearly as she would if she was in her little dipshit of a brother's house, only with a slight echo in addition.

"And I will not stand for intimidation. The security will be reinforced around our athletes, but do not doubt for a minute that there is going to be consequences for anyone who's trying to harm Russian citizen. Our athletes will be protected, no matter what."

"Did you hear the motherfucker, B?" Em asked, incredulous, at the surrealist scenethey were both watching simultaneously on different sides of the globe.

Though she was left momentarily speechless for once, the American was less than impressed by the man's little scare tactics. Truth be told, that was only step 1 of the repercussions she was expecting. There lied the justification of the hard choices she had demanded of the Russian. It was already starting to rain down on them.

First came the blog posts, then the contamination all over the Internet and the medias back home before Putin fired his first -and perhaps only- warning shot. She supposed it was only a threat -for now- that the ex KGB Director did not even bother to veil.

"Fuck, that was quick," she blew out, feeling already defeated. Her ominous circumstances now clearer than ever; in all evidence, there would be no state of grace for them. No, they were to be thrown right into the lion's den, straight to the wolves without further delay.

"Yeah, they're decrypting it on the show, I told you, they made a breaking news out of it" Emmett told her, tuning his TV down simultaneously.

"Don't make it worst, Em," Sam chastised his long time partner.

"What did I do? I'm just saying, and despite what Edward thinks, she's got a right to know." Her little brother was frustrated and expressed it quite loudly, as usual, outraged at his own lover's reprimandsand their brother's belief that he knew better.

"Stop being so negative, hon, she needs support, not that-" her brother in-law tried to explain to his hard headed man.

"But I was just pointing out that they are, nothing else," whinedher little brother to no avail and the two proceeded to have one of their famous lover spat, louder than Bella could imagine and for much longer than she would have liked.

Her family turned bickering into a whole new art form of foreplay- it seemed to run in their DNA if her parents and her siblings relationships were anything to go by. Much like her parents, they ignored her as they argued back and forth until one of them remembered that she was in fact still on the other end of the line.

"By the way, sis, I didn't think you had it in you," Emmett teased her as Sam barely grunted, used that he was to his man's antics.

"Oh yeah? I'll have you know I have plenty in me-err..." she cut herself off, realizing the double meaning her words could have.

"That's what she said!" Emmett howled with laughter. Trust her youngest brother to taunt the hell out of her for that little slip of the tongue, typical Em behavior.

She heard a thud, guessed that it must have been Sam's hand cuffing his lover behind the head, as was the custom for every stupidity that would fell off Emmett's lips- quite a lot actually- in their household.

"Babyyyy," he whined, only serving to fuel his partner's annoyance.

"Um guys? Still there," Bella told them, trying to avoid the inevitable. The two of them were constantly making passes at each other, no matter the place or the circumstances, primal need took precedence.

"Right, so you're stalking Russians now?" Sam went straight for the jugular.

"I'm not _stalking_ her, for fuck's sake, merely running after her-"

"What's her name?" Both men chorused, not caring about her explanation as much as they wanted the details on her scandalous little blond.

"Rosalie," the hockey player gave in to their questions, knowing it was useless to avoid it, for they would go after her scent like well trained hounds until she gave them something to satisfy their curiosity. Besides, they were family, and they deserved to know what was going on. Directly from her, not via the internet or whichever news anchor would voice their opinion on the matter live on TV.

"OK," they said at the same time.

"OK?" Bella asked them, surprised they would leave it at that, "that's it?"

"Well yeah," Sam started.

"Unless you wanna share?" Her sibling tried another approach.

"Ah," she blurted out, "I knew it. You can't leave it alone, can you?"

"Oh come on, B, that's forbidden territory even for you, so don't expect us not to be interested."

"True," Bella admitted to them as she went through her stuff to find a clean pair of underwear for tonight.

"Sooooo?"

"Don't whine, Emmett, it's unattractive," she jested as she heard Sam's protests.

"Nope, not unattractive to me, babe," the traitorous little shit added.

"Anyways guys, I have to get ready for the ceremony, sorry but the gossip will have to wait." So what if she took the easy way out for now? She did have an opening ceremony to attend after all.

"So unfair," her brother protested, "call us after if you have time?"

"Yeah, I'll try, but no promises. You'll watch the opening?"

"Sure B, wave at the camera for us," Emmett requested as she tried to multitask and dress at the same time.

"Ah ah, Dad said the same thing, moron," she reproached affectionately to her brother. Almost losing out her balance, she righted herself before agreeing, "sure, I'll be the one in red, white and blue.". She said her goodbyes and hung up, finally able to put on her pants and jacket.

Reading for a while in her room, she stalled but joined her team downstairs when the time came, eager for the ceremony to start. Actually more than ready to get her skates on and do what she did best, score and lead her team to victory. She was looking forward to meet her Russian later on, if they could wing it. She tried to spot her as they waited with their respective countries backstage for mid show, to make their grand entrance, but only saw a flash of blond hair that could have been her, hidden within the massive Slavic delegation who spoke loudly as they waited. Not willing to make a peep and attract more attention than she already was, she focused on the big screen displaying the first clip of the night; a little blond child named after love who was supposed to act as their guide through the Russian display of mythology and power they were about to witness.

Let the games begin, she thought as her time came and she paraded behind the US flag bearer, waving the Star-Spangled banner back and forth as their impressive delegation seemed to emerge from a projected rendering of the United States, right at the heart of the Fisht Olympic Stadium of Sochi.

As she stood behind her nation's colors, Bella could not help but marvel at the irony of the Russians banning gay propaganda, yet featuring so prominently in their grand opening ceremony such gay figures as Nijinsky, Tchaikovsky or Diaghilev. And she wasn't even going to mention the so called lesbian group they flaunted in the pre-show. None of those things mattered to the hockey player. Nothing but her games and her little Slavic temptress remained present in her mind throughout the different portions of the indoor ceremony. And despite every obstacle she could foresee, she savored the moment until the very end.


End file.
